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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26764042">Don't Forget, Some Rich People Got Rich With Dirty Hands</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RemWrites/pseuds/RemWrites'>RemWrites</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>October 2020 Spooks [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gintama</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abduction, Anxiety, Blood and Violence, Broken Bones, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Bonding, Fluff and Humor, Gang Rape, Gintoki Goes Apeshit, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, It's Only Bad For One Part, M/M, Mental Health Issues, No Beta We Die With Our Errors, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Paranoia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stalking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 02:54:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>24,647</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26764042</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RemWrites/pseuds/RemWrites</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Gintoki and the kids go out for a painting job, and it plays out exactly like any other painting job they've ever done.</p><p>Just this one leaves Gintoki checking over his shoulder every time he leaves his house.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mob/Sakata Gintoki</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>October 2020 Spooks [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950559</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>112</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Problem With Doing A Good Job Is That Everyone Wants Your Help After</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Day 1 Extra: Stalking</p><p>This was written for a Noncon October event, which you can find the prompts <a href="https://twitter.com/statuscrows/status/1300074830100824068">here</a>! I won't be doing all of them, but yes, there will be more.</p><p>This chapter is noncon free.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em><b>[</b></em><em><b>It's Been So Long </b></em><em><b>That</b></em><em><b> It's </b></em><em><b>Probably </b></em><em><b>July 12] </b></em><em><b>Probably </b></em><em><b>Sunday, ??:??<br/></b></em><br/>The world enclosed around him, the darkness swallowing him whole. Gintoki's breath came out in wheezing pants, burning his lungs and the back of his throat. He was moving fast, fighting fast, thinking fast, breathing fast.</p><p><em> He was panicking</em> <em>-</em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <b>[July 6] Monday, 13:23</b></em>
</p><p>“Oh wow, you guys actually did a really nice job with the shed!” The owner of the house, Hamamoto Ken, stood in the doorway with hands on his hips. He had a lung condition, so he kept his distance from the smell, but his eyes turned up to the ceiling of the large wooden shed, the ceiling that Shinpachi was currently painting white. Shinpachi glanced over to him and smiled shyly, a wet hand going to scratch at the back of his head because he <em>knew</em> he had set the bar for the quality of the work, and Gintoki <em>knew</em> he deserved the recognition. The boy had on a jumpsuit to protect him from the paint, the most caring of the group, and he had been the most thorough when making sure the paint had been spread evenly. Even Kagura had personally decided to do just as good as Shinpachi after, stopping every once in a while to make Gintoki look so that he would praise her. Gintoki was a huge fan of slacking and usually approved mediocre work, but even he could tell that they were doing a damn good job.</p><p>“Pachi, you've got a bald spot now.” Kagura yelled from the other corner of the shed where she was squatted down, filling in the little cracks and crevices. The shed was massive, could be rented out as a small single-room apartment if the owner decided to put up some walls and install a bathroom. <em>He probably stores his fancy </em><em>bikes and ATVs </em><em>in here.</em> The man himself had looked rich in his flashy business suit, had smelled rich the second Gintoki had seen the state of care his house was in. The area they were in wasn't known for being wealthy, but Hamamoto sure had the nicest house on the block.</p><p>Gintoki glanced up from what he was doing when Kagura started laughing hysterically, spotting the white patch of paint Shinpachi had left on the back of his head with his hand.</p><p>Hamamoto chuckled when Shinpachi squawked, his eyes turning to Gintoki. Hamamoto motioned with his hand for Gintoki to come hither, so Gintoki set down his brush on his paint can to follow the man outside. The sun was high in the sky as Gintoki emerged from the dimly lit shed, wiping his hands off on the stomach of the old sleeveless white shirt he had worn that day. His yukata was hanging safely inside along with Kagura's light jacket, the weather warm enough that he didn't mind shedding the layers. He placed his hands on his hips, flashing Hamamoto a toothy grin.</p><p>“Nice job.” Hamamoto said again. He paused in the middle of his backyard, the grass neatly trimmed, the house itself old but renovated to look like it was brand new. Hamamoto turned around smiling, His hands on his thick but not pudgy waist. His teeth were perfectly straight, his little wire glasses probably worth more than Gintoki made in six months, and Gintoki hoped this was the part where he got handed a cash bonus.</p><p>“Now, I know you're almost done and you're probably busy this week, but my son just dropped by and he wants to meet you. He might have another job for you if you're interested. It's the same kind of work, I'm sure, nothing you haven't done before.” Hamamoto said. “And don't worry. He'll pay just as good as I am.”</p><p>“I can work him into our schedule.” Gintoki said, thinking of the dog and child that were going to eat him into debt by the end of the year. “You said he's here?”</p><p>“Great! Come with me then!” Hamamoto exclaimed, turning back around and heading into the house. Gintoki followed him, a little bounce in his step. His week had been going well, money coming in. The kids had been happy, and if the kids were happy then so was he.</p><p>The second they got into the door, Hamamoto's cellphone started to ring.</p><p>“Sorry, one second.” Hamamoto said, just as a younger, thinner, version of himself appeared in the kitchen doorway. He was Gintoki's height but scrawnier, boyish in features suggesting his early twenties.</p><p>Hamamoto waved at the younger version before gesturing wildly at Gintoki. The son, Gintoki assumed, approached him, his eyes flickering from Gintoki's face, slowly down his body, and then back up again. Gintoki was immediately taken aback, one eyebrow quirking as the younger man obviously checked him out. He was attractive himself. Nice, easy features with messy hair that girls might find cute. He was also well dressed, no doubt following in his father's financial footsteps.</p><p>But that was all Gintoki really cared about.</p><p>“Oh wow, you're beautiful.” The son said bluntly, and it immediately caught Gintoki off guard. The son broke out into a huge smile, his gaze on Gintoki's eyes as he shoved out his hand. “Hamamoto Ryota!”</p><p>“Gintoki.” Gintoki said with a nervous chuckle. He shook the man's hand quickly before shoving his own back into the pockets of his pants, suddenly feeling a little shy now that his body was being scrutinized and this kid was obviously looking him over. “Your father said you might have a job for me?”</p><p>“Yes.” Ryota said. “I have a problem with my fence, I hired some friends for cheap to help me paint it and, well, turns out painting really isn't that easy when you don't know a thing about it. I'm lucky I was visiting when you came. May I ask what <em>other kinds</em> of jobs you do?”</p><p>
  <em>What other kinds of jobs you do.</em>
</p><p>Gintoki chuckled uneasily, because while he had never gotten anything <em>too</em> weird – illegal, yes, <em>weird</em>, no – he had always worried that one day he would be <em>propositioned.</em> And the way the younger Hamamoto had asked that question made Gintoki blatantly aware that he wouldn't be comfortable with whatever it was running through the younger man's mind.</p><p>“Only jobs around the house.” Gintoki said, because he was okay with losing one client and all of his sketchy friends, should this man ask him for what Gintoki thought he was. And when Ryota's eyes flickered back down to Gintoki's stomach, hopefully at the paint staining his shirt, Gintoki knew he had dodged a bullet.</p><p>“Ah.” Ryota said. He grinned, his dark eyes bright in excitement. “Well, I'll give you my contact info for the fence. Will Friday work for you? Sometime after lunch?”</p><p>“Sure.” Gintoki said, knowing they weren't booked for anything on Friday. He didn't think anything of it, and when the kids finished painting the shed that his living room could fit inside, Gintoki got paid enough to actually pay a month's worth of rent he owed.</p><p>Obviously, the old lady never saw a single yen of it.</p><p> </p><p><em> <b>[July 7] Tuesday, </b> </em> <em> <b>0</b></em><em><b>9:2</b></em><em><b>5</b> </em></p><p>“Ah, stop ringing!” Gintoki complained, briskly emerging from the bathroom. He had nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair wet and wild, dripping water as he hurried through his house to the stupid phone on his desk. Kagura had left before he had showered, something about being out of dog food and going to wake Shinpachi up, so basic things like phone calls were Gintoki's job now. Apparently. Which sucked. Gintoki didn't really <em>like</em> answering the phone, didn't like being readily available for anyone and everyone. He really hoped it wasn’t a client because their day was clear, which meant he planned to lay around and read JUMP.</p><p>“Hello, hello, this is Odd Jobs.” Gintoki said into the receiver as he ran his fingers through his wet hair, shaking off some of the droplets. He leaned against his desk, eyes turning to the window where he could partially see the street. It wasn't crowded, never was. There were only a few people wandering by.</p><p>“Hi, Gintoki?” The voice on the other end of the line was familiar and excited.</p><p>Gintoki yawned, shoving his pinkie into his nose. “Yes, this is Gintoki. And you are?”</p><p>“Hamamoto Ryota. We met the other day at my father's house?” Ah, the guy who had blatantly checked Gintoki out. Gintoki rolled his eyes and pulled his pinky out, inspecting it.</p><p>“Do you need to reschedule the fence?” Gintoki asked easily, eyebrows furrowing because that wasn’t <em>today,</em> was it? That had been Friday, right? Gintoki was pretty sure he had his days straight, and even if he didn't, he knew the kids would have told him. Lately, Shinpachi was 'secretly' trying out positive reinforcement using strawberry milk to help Gintoki get his shit together. But little did Shinpachi know, Gintoki knew first-hand the difference between <em>classical conditioning</em> and <em>operant</em><em> conditioning.</em> Gintoki was getting free milk when he was good – showering in the morning, on time for work, remembering which job was scheduled when, not wasting his money on pachinko and booze. <em>Classical conditioning.<br/><br/></em>If he screwed any of these up, there would conveniently be no milk in the fridge even if Gintoki knew he had bought extra, which was annoying, but it wasn't the end of the world. <em>Operant conditioning.</em></p><p>But little did Shinpachi know, Gintoki was conditioning him right back and he was using the milk to do it too. If there was milk in the fridge that Gintoki didn't buy, Gintoki would encourage Shinpachi to play Otsuu's latest album and let him cook dinner, therefore saving him from eating his sister's black matter. If the milk was missing, Gintoki would use it as an excuse, saying he would go to the store after Shinpachi left because he needed milk, and '<em>I'll just get something for Kagura to eat while I'm out'.</em></p><p>Gintoki found it amusing.</p><p>“No, no. The fence can still be done on Friday when my wife is home. I was wondering? Are you free today?” Ryota asked, trying to sound casual. The lilt in his tone made Gintoki suspect the man didn't have a spontaneous job in mind.</p><p>“Perhaps.” Gintoki said, a hand on his hip, instantly wary. “Do you have a job for us to do? I can probably schedule something in today. We might have some free time later in the day.”</p><p>“Oh, that's perfect timing. I was wondering if you wanted to come out for a drink with me?” Ryota asked. His tone was chipper, excited even like perhaps the two of them had known each other in high-school and had just run back into each other after years apart.</p><p>Gintoki laughed, a little gracelessly. He tried to remain polite, remembering they were going to get paid well in a couple of days by this man. “I'm going to have to decline.”</p><p>“That's alright.” Ryota said. He didn't sound miffed, didn't sound annoyed. “Perhaps next time.”</p><p>Gintoki hummed in disagreement, before hanging up the call. He stood there for a moment, staring at his phone in wonder, thinking about the man's face, about the man's lax attitude. Thought about the fact that the man knew where he lived and had his number and seemed to feel a little too casual with him.</p><p><em>It's nothing.</em> Gintoki tucked the thought away into the deep folds of his overflowing brain, before heading to his bedroom to dry off and get dressed.</p><p> </p><p><em> <b>[July 7] Tuesday, </b> </em> <em> <b>20</b></em><em><b>:11</b></em></p><p>Kagura was sitting on the couch across from Gintoki, shoving crackers into her mouth. Her eyes were glued to the TV, the second episode of a new Anime she had started to watch recently. She didn't even glance Gintoki's way when the phone began to ring, immediately placed her finger to her nose, calling dibs not to do it.</p><p>“Fine, fine, be lazy.” Gintoki groaned, rolling off the couch. He placed his JUMP face open on the coffee table between them before slinking around Sadaharu to get over to his desk. He picked up the receiver, flopping into his office chair and immediately kicking up his feet.</p><p>“Hello?” He yawned, figuring it was Otose about the rent or Shinpachi because he had forgotten something.</p><p>“Good evening!” It was Ryota, his voice loud and excited. “Hope I'm not bothering you?”</p><p><em>You are.</em> Gintoki didn't say. He closed his eyes, his eyebrow twitching in annoyance. <em>Damn, is he ever persistent? What does he want? Why me? Is my face really that nice or is he just blind?</em></p><p>“Evening. Do you need to reschedule?” Gintoki asked, jumping straight to the point, remembering what had happened that morning. He wondered if this was going to turn into a problem, hoped he was just being critical.</p><p>“No, I'm just calling to say good night. Good night, Gintoki. Stay out of trouble, alright?” Ryota said, his voice soft and caring. It was too friendly, too out of place, too weird.</p><p>Gintoki's hands went cold.</p><p>Gintoki felt frozen, eyes drifting up to stare at the patterns in the wood on his desk. The man was starting to remind him of Sarutobi and not in a good way.</p><p>“Uh, good night.” Gintoki stuttered out before hanging up the phone. He slammed it down like it had been slimy, wiped his hand off on his yukata as he stood back up.</p><p>“Who was that?” Kagura asked as she glanced over his way, her mouth full of crackers.</p><p>“A client.” Gintoki said, still standing awkwardly at his desk, still staring at his phone. He didn't like the feeling that crept up his spine, didn't like the feeling that suddenly washed over him, telling him he was being watched. He already had a stalker, he didn't need another.</p><p>“What did he want?” Kagura asked. Even Sadaharu perked up his head, all eyes turning to Gintoki and making him feel a little silly.</p><p><em>It's not like I know he's stalking me, he's just called me twice today and I only met him yesterday. That's not stalking? </em><em>He just said good night, that's a little damn weird, but not the weirdest shit I've seen, so?</em> Gintoki didn't move, still staring at the phone. <em>But what if he calls tomorrow? I'll just get rid of him like Sarutobi, no problem, I know how to deal with shit like this. I</em><em>t</em><em>'ll be fine.</em></p><p>“Earth to Gin-chan! Look at me!” Kagura was suddenly standing right beside him with her box of crackers in her hand, glancing up with her massive blue puppy eyes. Gintoki glanced at her, eyes meeting hers, and suddenly he wasn't lost anymore. He chuckled, dropping a hand onto her head and aggressively rubbing her hair.</p><p>She offered him a cracker and he immediately took it, shoving the whole thing into his mouth.</p><p>“What did he want?” Kagura asked, plucking a second cracker from the box in her hands but not giving it to him quite yet.</p><p>“He's kind of weird, I don't know what he wanted.” Gintoki said honestly with an exasperated sigh. Kagura gave him the second cracker and he shoved it into his mouth too as he passed by her. He flopped back onto the couch, grabbing his JUMP again and holding it up over his face. “Just finish your snacks and go to bed. If you stay up too late every night and don't sleep enough, you'll get crows feet like Granny downstairs.”</p><p>“Aren't crows feet the things you get when you run away from the altar during your wedding?” Kagura asked, sounding genuinely confused.</p><p>Gintoki dropped the JUMP into his face as he snorted, couldn't remember the last time he had laughed so hard.</p><p> </p><p><em> <b>[July 8] Wednesday, 0</b></em> <em> <b>9</b> </em> <em> <b>:2</b> </em> <em><b>5</b> </em></p><p>Gintoki groaned, throwing the bathroom door open again just like he had the day before. He waltzed soaking wet across his living room in nothing but a towel again to answer the damn phone. Kagura squawked at him from where she sat in the living room, her hands flying up to cover her eyes.</p><p>“Hello, hello. This is Odd Jobs.” Gintoki sang into the phone a little too cheerily, a little voice in the back of his mind screaming at him because he <em>hoped</em> it wasn't Ryota again. That had been a one-time thing, right? <em>Right?</em> He was really annoyed that morning, there hadn't been any milk in the fridge, and Gintoki wasn't sure <em>why.</em></p><p>“Good morning Gintoki!” It was Ryota, and he sounded as chipper as ever. Annoying. “You're looking rather fine this morning, how are you?”<br/>Gintoki opened his mouth to ask the man what the hell he thought he was doing, but he froze at one particular part of the comment. <em>You're looking rather fine this morning.</em> Gintoki's eyes flickered to the window, concern suddenly rising in his chest. The hairs on his arms started to rise, the feeling he'd had the night before of being watched returning full force.</p><p>“Do you need to reschedule?” Gintoki asked, because, at the end of the day, that was all that mattered. Not Ryota and whatever the hell he thought he was doing, and not the stupid fence. Gintoki could find other work. But this man had left Gintoki feeling a little uncomfortable in such a short amount of time and that was <em>bad news</em>.</p><p>“No, I just wanted to hear your voice.” Ryota said and oh no, this sounded exactly like Gintoki's problem with Sarutobi. Why? Why was this man so hard-up for him? All Gintoki had done was paint his father's shed.</p><p>“You need to stop calling me.” Gintoki said, his voice stern like when Sarutobi wouldn't leave his balcony. Right now, in this moment, he was glad he had experience with the eccentric woman. “We will come by to fix your fence on Friday. Sometime around one. Don't worry, we'll be there.”</p><p>“I know, I know, I just want-”</p><p>“Bye.” Gintoki hung up on him, his hand jerking away from the receiver like it had shocked him.</p><p>“Gin-chan, are you done?” Kagura yelled, and when Gintoki glanced over his shoulder to her, Kagura was turned away from him with hands over her eyes. “You need to go put on some clothes! You're indecent and all your fat rolls are hanging out!”</p><p>“Eh? Since when did you start to care about skin?” Gintoki asked, straightening himself from leaning over his desk. He ran a hand through his hair again, shaking out some of the droplets before glancing down at his stomach, pinching at his hip. <em>Shut up about my baby fat rolls!</em></p><p>Gintoki scoffed, hand back into his hair to shake out the water.“Are you at that age now where it's awkward? Does seeing skin make you uncomfortable? That means you're growing up, Kagura-chan, and all the boys your age are going to start looking less greasy now. But don't be fooled, they're still greasy. Find a boy with abs who isn't needy.” <em>But not </em>that one<em> boy with abs.</em></p><p>“I am not! I'm not growing up! You're just! Gross!” Kagura yelled, but her palms were still pressed into her eyes and Sadaharu was making a moody face at Gintoki from where his head was visible over the back of the couch, so Gintoki complied and disappeared into his bedroom. He wondered if he would get any milk for this.</p><p>“Kids these days.” Gintoki complained as he got dressed, the remnants of his conversation with Ryota still lingering in the back of his mind. Stupid people and their stupid attachment. What was it about Gintoki that lured everyone weird in? All the women in his life were gorillas, there were several pairs of glasses, an alien girl with super strength who could have sued him, and now a bunch of stalkers. Throw in a mayo-addict and a rebel, and Gintoki had more problems than he knew what to do with.</p><p>Shinpachi showed up a few minutes after Gintoki had gotten dressed, bright and excited for the day. They had two jobs lined up, another fence and a small neighborhood of elderly women who all needed their little dogs to be walked.</p><p>They finished the fence by lunchtime, and due to their speed and efficiency, the homeowner had given them a bonus. Gintoki took the kids and treated them to a fancy lunch.</p><p>“I want kebobs!” Kagura yelled, the three of them standing in line at a western barbecue food stand. It had just opened downtown and it even had a little seating area enclosed by a metal gate, little white picnic tables with umbrellas opened wide to shade customers from the sun. Shinpachi was eager to try something new, <em>too</em> eager, taking so long to scan the menu that Gintoki groaned, running a hand through his hair. He was tired of painting even though they were good at it now and it was good money. He was tired of the smell of paint, tired of looking at paint – why was white in season? White was so ugly – tired of wondering what kind of trouble he'd gotten himself into over <em>paint.</em></p><p><em>Why is white paint in season? It's so ugly and </em> <em>easy to stain.</em></p><p>“Just pick something for me. I'll go find us a table.” Gintoki said, meandering away from the kids to go find some shade to sit under. He found a table in the corner and sat down in the chair, his back facing the nearest building. He slouched back, head tilting up for a moment before he righted himself and leaned forward, his chin resting in his hands. He glanced out into the busy street, wondering if he should bring Sadaharu to their next job and just tie all the leashes to his so <em>he</em> could walk the little dogs, when Gintoki's eyes caught on a person across the street.</p><p>Ryota didn't even pretend like he hadn't noticed Gintoki. He was straight-up looking Gintoki's way and waving like an idiot, his smile wide and bright. He crossed the street and Gintoki wondered if he was going to have to get Kagura to kick the guy to the moon. Gintoki groaned in advance as the man came closer, schooled his face into his typical dead-fish look, clearing in his throat so he could tell the man off and maybe even threaten to cancel the job.</p><p>“Hi!” Ryota exclaimed from the other side of the low gate just as the kids got to the table. He leaned forward, hands curling around the gate so he could be just a smidge closer. Kagura jumped into her seat beside Gintoki, a Styrofoam plate with more than a dozen kebabs piled onto it dropping onto the table. Gintoki glanced at the meat, wondered how much <em>that</em> had cost.</p><p>“Hi!” Kagura parroted in the exact same tone as Ryota, picking up one of the kebabs and biting hungrily into the meat.</p><p>“Oh hello!” Shinpachi said, polite as ever. He placed a takeout container in front of Gintoki, set his own down across from Gintoki. “I'm sorry, I forgot your name. But we're fixing your fence on Friday, right?”</p><p>“Yeah!” Ryota said, his eyes lighting up. “Shinpachi, right? And Kagura?”</p><p>“Do you need to reschedule?” Gintoki asked, his voice bland and heavy. He met Ryota's eyes, his chin never leaving his hand because this was <em>not</em> going to go on in front of his kids. Shinpachi sat down and opened his container, a thick sandwich full of tangy smelling meat inside.</p><p>“Oh no, of course not-”</p><p>“You’re going to to miss your bus.” Gintoki said, nodding down the street at the approaching vehicle. He sat up then, his hands on the takeout container like he was ready to eat, hoping the idiot would take the hint and <em>leave.</em></p><p>Ryota chuckled under his breath and nodded. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he refrained. He chuckled instead, eyes squeezing shut. He didn't look threatening, hadn't really done anything to threaten Gintoki or the kids. But his presence?</p><p>Gintoki had a <em>feeling</em>, and he always trusted them. It was the only reason he was still alive, really. And the fact that Gintoki was currently trying to rely on such feelings…</p><p>Ryota was bad news.</p><p>“Right. I just came to say hi. Have a good lunch, guys!” Ryota said, before turning around and dashing back across the street so he could catch his bus. He appeared and disappeared so casually, Gintoki wondered if he was looking for problems that didn't really exist.</p><p>“Is he the guy who keeps calling?” Kagura asked, shoving more meat in her mouth, turning in her chair to face Gintoki, her eyes huge and blue and concerned. She picked up another kebob, waving it temptingly Gintoki's way. His eyes caught on it, but she asked a question before offering it to him. “He called twice yesterday, didn't he?”</p><p>“Nope.” Gintoki lied. Kagura waved the kebab away from Gintoki, taking a huge bite indecent for a lady out of it. Gintoki popped open his own container. He was glad to see rice. The meat was slathered in sauce, but at least the sauce smelled sweet.</p><p>“We're doing good work this week! Keep it up, guys! At this rate, we can take a vacation this year!” Shinpachi said, changing the subject immediately.<br/>Gintoki ate his rice, his lips pulling in debate when he tasted the meat.</p><p>It ended up in his fridge beside the new carton of strawberry milk.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <b>[July 8] Wednesday, 22:43</b> </em>
</p><p>Gintoki took a side job that night without telling the kids. A sketchy job, one that the kids shouldn't be in on and didn't need to know about. It had been really simple: stop at the shop, pick up the envelope, and deliver it. And the second the envelope passed from Gintoki's hands to the recipients, he would be paid a nice sum. And if he got caught with the envelope, <em>he didn't know any of them</em> and he had just<em> casually found it on a bench</em> and was <em>on his way to the post office to let them deal with it in the morning.</em></p><p>It was on his way home from that job late that night, that Gintoki got the <em>feeling.</em> The hairs on his arms started to raise, his attention wavering to focus on something silent behind him. He didn't want to say he was paranoid. Didn't even want to claim that his instincts for things like this had been honed during the war, because the war had been ten years ago and if his skills were still that sharp, that meant Gintoki was having <em>problems</em> he'd rather not admit to. But simply put, he got a <em>gut feeling</em> that he was being followed and ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the time, Gintoki was right.</p><p>Gintoki took a different street, putting distance between him and home. He headed down towards the busier area of town, his eyes trained forward but his ears trained behind him. Wondering, Gintoki debated if he should look over his shoulder and confront his stalker or-</p><p>
  <em>Stalker.</em>
</p><p>Gintoki stopped in his tracks. He grit his teeth, making up his mind and spinning on his heel. It was likely he knew exactly who was following him and that fact alone made Gintoki's blood start to boil. Again? What the hell was this? At least Sarutobi didn't make him feel <em>threatened</em>. Gintoki didn't know what it was about the man, but the man-made him extremely uncomfortable in ways Sarutobi never could.</p><p>
  <em>He's dangerous.</em>
</p><p>As expected, it was Ryota. He was smiling brightly as he waved, casually picking up the pace. Gintoki looked him over again, looked for any sign of hostility, wondered if this man secretly had a history like his or Katsura's, was one brain cell shy from being a stable member of society.</p><p>“Gintoki, fancy seeing-”</p><p>Gintoki clicked his tongue, his head tilting to the side in annoyance. “Why were you following me?” Gintoki cut straight to the chase, knowing that he needed to end this behavior right now before it could become a bigger problem. Gintoki knew exactly how operant conditioning worked best, and he liked to make use of his experiences.</p><p>“I saw you a while back and was trying to catch up.” Ryota said, rubbing the back of his neck. He even looked abashed like he hadn't meant to stalk him. “Sorry, I called out to you but you didn't hear. I was waking in the same direction as you anyway, so I didn't really think it would be a problem.”</p><p>Gintoki narrowed his eyes, tilted his head so he could properly glance down his nose at the other man. He slung his arm casually into his yukata, letting the irritation show on his face. “You need to stop.”</p><p>“Stop what?” Ryota asked innocently, taking a step closer. It was his demeanor, his behavior, that irritated Gintoki the most. How casual he was about all this, toeing the edge of being a threat, remaining a nuisance that kept Gintoki on high alert.</p><p>“I'm not doing anything-”</p><p>“You called my house twice yesterday. And now you're following me? I've seen you twice <em>today</em> and that was after you called in the morning.” Gintoki said. “What is it? What do you want from me?”</p><p>Gintoki suspected that he shouldn't have said anything because suddenly, Ryota's face lit up. Suddenly, the man looked a little too excited, stepped a little closer, didn't seem to understand that Gintoki was angry with him. Or perhaps, this was exactly what the man <em>wanted.</em></p><p>“You noticed?”</p><p>“Of course I noticed.” Gintoki said. “You're not exactly discrete.”</p><p>“I like you.” Ryota said, and Gintoki knew better than to take those words lightly. Ryota stepped closer, within arms reach, suddenly crowding Gintoki's space. If Gintoki wanted, he could swing his sword right now and send the man to the hospital with a warning and a couple of broken bones. But what had Ryota really done to him? There had been no threats, no violence. If anything, attacking him would just come back on Gintoki, and Gintoki wasn't too keen on being arrested and having his life dug into.</p><p>Gintoki clenched his jaw, his hands controlled, close to his body. Defensive but still ready to strike.</p><p>“I think you're beautiful, and it would be such a waste for me to let you get away. You can disappear into the crowd, Gintoki, but you'll always stand out.” Ryota said, his voice lilting. “I'm sorry if I'm coming off too strong, but I want to talk to you.”</p><p>“No. It's creepy.” Gintoki said. He moved then, stepping closer, letting the war within him show just enough to hopefully scare this man away. “You don't know what you're dealing with, and I really don't like it. So take my warning and stay away. I will do your job on Friday, but if I hear from you tomorrow, that's it. I won't come.”</p><p>Ryota stared evenly with him, his smile still bright and his pupils dilating. Gintoki worried his words had blown right over the other man's head.</p><p>“Okay.” Ryota said a little breathlessly, and Gintoki didn't know if he trusted that. “Okay, I won't call tomorrow, and you won't see me. But you'll be surprised to know that I <em>do</em> know what I'm dealing with.”</p><p>“You don't call or show your face tomorrow, and not Friday either. We come, we paint the fence, and that's it. You will stop bothering me.” Gintoki snapped. Because the last thing he needed was <em>another</em> person following him around, sneaking into his house, touching his things, stealing his clothes. Gintoki didn't like this one bit, knew he needed to nip this before it could grow.</p><p>But unlike Sarutobi, this man felt different. This man, Gintoki didn't want anywhere near his kids. Gintoki didn't fear him, cold hands aside, but he could recognize a danger when he saw one. Gintoki didn't know what the danger was, hoped it was aimed at Gintoki and not his loved ones, but that was dangerous all the same.</p><p>“Okay.” Ryota said again. Gintoki didn't believe it for a second.</p><p>Gintoki stepped past him, walking off back towards home. Ryota didn't call over his shoulder, and Gintoki didn't glance back. But he did listen as he walked away. Sent out his sixth sense or whatever the hell it was, listening for footsteps, waiting for the hairs on his arms to raise. There was nothing trailing after him, nothing lurking in the dark streets, nothing Gintoki feared would follow him home.</p><p>At home, Gintoki was stopped at the bottom of the stairs. His boot was on the first step when Otose slid the door open, conveniently stepping out to have a smoke. “You're late.”</p><p>“I have a curfew?” Gintoki asked. He paused, glancing over his shoulder with an easy smile and his usual dead look.</p><p>Otose snorted, lighting up her cigarette. “You should.”</p><p>They stared at each other for a moment, Gintoki relaxing in Otose's familiarity, in the warmth and affection always present in her face. And Otose stared him in the eye like they were windows into his soul, her expression growing concerned, her mouth opening to question him.</p><p>“Good night.” Gintoki said first, climbing the stairs back to his own home. His safe haven. The one place he had felt the most secure in since that roof over his head as a child. He always feared something would happen to it, happen to Otose, would crumble the life he had be gifted.</p><p>Inside his own house, Gintoki leaned against his front door, exhaling shakily. He took off his boots, a permanent line in his forehead as he crept back into his house like he hadn't left at all. All the lights were off, everyone sleeping like they should have been, and Gintoki was one minute away from bed himself when he suddenly stepped on the creaky board in the hallway.</p><p>Sadaharu howled, the sound echoing throughout the entire neighborhood. He tackled Gintoki in the next moment, sending Gintoki sprawling over his back while the Inugami drooled all over his face, and Kagura was up in a second.</p><p>“Did you sneak out to drink, you old fool?” Kagura yelled, turning on all the lights and bursting into the hallway where Gintoki was trapped underneath Sadaharu. “You're dressed again! You said you went to bed! You went out wasting your money and drinking, didn't you!”</p><p>“I didn't, I didn't!” Gintoki yelled.</p><p>“Didn't Mama teach you better than to sneak around in the night?” Kagura yelled, taking off her slipper and whacking him with it. Gintoki tried to defend himself, but his hands ended up in Sadaharu's mouth, and he started to cackle each time the bunny slipper smacked into his head.</p><p>Gintoki went to bed with a bump and a smile on his face.</p><p> </p><p><em> <b>[July </b> </em> <em> <b>9</b></em><em><b>] </b> </em> <em> <b>Thurs</b></em><em><b>day, 0</b></em><em><b>9</b></em><em><b>:</b></em><em><b>26</b> </em></p><p>Gintoki was out of the shower, his eyes cutting to the phone as he strolled to his bedroom. Kagura was yawning as she made herself breakfast, egg on rice again. She was unnecessarily opening the fridge door and complaining there was no juice, waiting for Gintoki to notice that all the milk was gone again. Both kids were in on it, weren’t they? Both kids were trying to use rewards to improve his shitty behavior. <em>Classical conditioning.</em></p><p>Gintoki made a note to eat Kagura's sesame crackers later while loudly complaining he apparently forgot to buy milk. <em>Operant conditioning.</em></p><p>“Do you want some breakfast?” Kagura asked as she came out of the kitchen with two bowls. She set them both down on the table, munching on her own bowl heaped with rice.</p><p>“Maybe.” Gintoki said, his eyes passing over breakfast in favor of the more recent problem in his life. Ryota was late calling, right? Did that mean he had listened? Gintoki's ears had been listening for the phone, the weird encounters from the past couple of days leaving him on edge.</p><p>“Did the phone ring?” Gintoki asked casually, approaching his desk and glancing out the window. The hairs on his arms were standing on end, the general feeling of being watched never leaving him since the moment he had woken up.</p><p>“Nope.” Kagura said. “If you're not going to eat that, don't worry. It won't go to waste.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong><em> [July </em> <em> 9</em><em>] </em> <em> Thursday</em><em>, </em> <em> 13</em><em>:</em><em>02 </em></strong>
</p><p>They stopped for lunch after cleaning out a hoarder's apartment – sixteen trash bags had been taken out of that apartment, <em>sixteen</em> – but Gintoki's distracted attention didn't go unnoticed. If the kids noticed someone had been stalking them, they didn't comment on it.</p><p>Maybe it was all just in Gintoki's head?</p><p>“Gin-san, you haven't been listening to me.” Shinpachi complained. Gintoki wondered if he should start rewarding Shinpachi when he <em>wasn't</em> complaining. Would that be too obvious? Honestly, it sounded like too much work. Conditioning was manipulative, could create more problems than it could solve if it wasn't done right. The kids had good hearts though, so he wasn't upset with what they were trying to do it with him.</p><p>They were sitting on a bench eating rice balls out of a plastic container with some vegetables, Kagura scarfing hers back like she hadn't eaten for days. The sky was cloudy and moody just like Gintoki's irate mood and lost attention, the threat of rain making his hair curl a little more haphazardly and with a little more volume.</p><p>“I said we should ask around the shops here if they need any help. Never know when staff might call in sick, right?” Shinpachi said, his eyes still on Gintoki, still talking about working and being helpful and wasting their time for petty change.</p><p>“Right.” Gintoki agreed, his eyes on the bus stop he had spotted across the street, his attention sliding to the crowd. Ryota had been so immediately persistent that Gintoki had doubted the man would listen to him. Gintoki had assumed his sword would have had to come into play before the other man finally let up. <em>Only two days </em><em>since you met him</em><em>, and you're already this paranoid?</em></p><p>“Gin-san.” Shinpachi complained.</p><p>“Gin-chan.” Kagura whined. “If you're not going to eat your lunch, I will for you.”</p><p>“Kagura, don't baby him!”</p><p>Gintoki only hummed before prying his attention away and turning back to his picked at food. He was distracted and he knew it, was searching for threats that weren’t really there. <em>Careful, this kind of behavior can get out of hand fast.</em> His chopsticks, forgotten in his hand, poked at the cooked vegetables that had come on the side. Kagura turned his way, shoving some more broccoli into his container, complaining they were too salty even though they certainly were not.</p><p>Gintoki ate the broccoli she had given him, picking at the rest. Ten minutes later his hairs stood on end, and he glanced over his shoulders. The kids got up, energetic and ready to go for their next job, but Gintoki hesitated, his eyes narrowing into the street behind him them because he <em>knew.</em></p><p>Gintoki never did see him, but Ryota was there.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong><em> [July </em> <em> 9</em><em>] </em> <em> Thursday</em><em>, </em> <em> 22</em><em>:</em><em>00 </em></strong>
</p><p>Gintoki passed by his the phone on his desk in suspicion. It hadn't rung all day, but the window suddenly made him uncomfortable so he closed the blinds. He wasn't sure how, but he felt like someone had been watching him through the pane. Worried they had been watching Kagura too, or even the old lady downstairs.</p><p><em>This is how things go wrong and get out of hand.</em> Don't worry. Don't worry. <em>Next, I'll be pacing at night again. Relax. Breathe.</em></p><p>Regardless, Gintoki slipped on his boots and snuck outside. Sadaharu was home, and unless someone came <em>prepared</em>, Sadaharu could and would effectively protect Kagura.</p><p><em>What if they </em>are <em>prepared? What if I've left her vulnerable?</em></p><p>This needed to stop. <em>Gintoki</em> needed to stop.</p><p>Gintoki took on a quick pace in the night to make the second delivery of the week, trying not to glance over his shoulder when the hairs on the back of his neck rose the second he disappeared into the dark street. <em>Maybe I'm overthinking things? No, I should trust my instincts… but what if I'm wrong?</em></p><p>The feeling didn't die as Gintoki completed the delivery job without incident, money for Sadaharu and Kagura's combined appetites in his hands. On his way home, on a lonely street that he didn't need to be on, Gintoki stopped, finally glancing over his shoulder. He expected to see someone. Expected to see <em>something.</em> If anything, Gintoki missed Sarutobi stalking him. At least she was obvious and didn't give him anxiety.</p><p>There was no one there, but the feeling didn't go away.</p><p><em>There's no way he was stalking me for an entire day and I didn't see him once. No way. Maybe I should ask Sarutobi to stalk him to find out if he's stalking me? Nah, that's just paranoid. </em> <em>I'm paranoid. He got under my skin because he was creepy about everything. That's all.</em></p><p>Huffing, Gintoki turned back towards home with his blood boiling beneath his skin, irritation with his own thoughts ricocheting through his skull, mixing with the worry for Kagura and the Inugami still at home.</p><p>And when he crawled into bed that night, his nerves settled. Kagura was hidden away in her closet, and he himself couldn't be seen because the drapes had been pulled securely shut. But in the middle of the night, Gintoki woke up, his eyes on the ceiling in the dark, his concerned, looping thoughts drifting downstairs to Otose.</p><p> </p><p><em> <b>[July </b> </em> <em> <b>10</b></em><em><b>] </b> </em> <em> <b>Friday</b></em><em><b>, </b> </em> <em> <b>0</b></em><em><b>9</b></em><em><b>:54</b> </em></p><p>It was the day Gintoki hadn't been looking forward to, the day he had signed up for that had made his previous good week feel like ages ago. Gintoki passed by the phone with his toothbrush shoved into his mouth, not even glancing at it because yesterday's paranoia seemed to be replaced with anxiety instead. He found out a few minutes later that there was no milk in the fridge, so he settled for drinking Shinpachi's apple juice and waited for Shinpachi to arrive to do it.</p><p>First, they trotted downstairs to help Otose bring in her morning stock. The delivery always came at the same time, and as lazy as Gintoki was, he did always help her. She was old after all, and while Tama and the Weirdo could help, they had other things they could be doing. The kids liked to help, too. They liked to visit Otose every chance they got, and Gintoki knew that Otose liked having them around. This visit would have been fine that day, just like every other visit, if the old lady hadn't been so damn keen.</p><p>“You're tense again.” Otose said from behind her bar, glancing Gintoki's way while everyone else was in the back room sorting things out. It wasn't unusual for her to drag Gintoki aside to talk to him, sometimes about current events and jobs, sometimes lecturing, sometimes affectionately. Gintoki wasn’t sure what the kids thought, but they liked to give him and the old lady time together. It was endearing and annoying all the same.</p><p>Gintoki only chuckled, accepting the thick little glass of water she had poured. “Tama's been on edge the past couple of days too. Said there's been someone lurking around outside. You bring home any trouble I should know about?”</p><p>The hairs on Gintoki's arms stood on end again, his expression never changing as he stared into the glass of water. <em>Tama noticed him? </em><em>Shit, he really has been around here, hasn't he?</em></p><p>“It's fine.” Gintoki said. And he knew Otose didn't believe him for a second, but that wasn't the point. The old woman's eyes flickered down to Gintoki's arm and then back up to his face, and he gently flushed in shame for being caught.</p><p>“Gintoki.” Otose said, her tone no different from before, but the way she said his name was a warning. “Be good.”</p><p><em>Be good.</em> She wasn’t telling Gintoki to stay out of trouble. She was warning him about his ways, about his triggers and his past hardships. They both knew how fast he could derail, how fast he could fall back into neurotic behavior and destructive coping mechanisms.</p><p><em>I know. I'll deal with it. </em>“I have another job to do, I have to go.”</p><p> </p><p><em> <b>[July </b> </em> <em> <b>10</b></em><em><b>] </b> </em> <em> <b>Friday</b></em><em><b>, </b> </em> <em> <b>13</b></em><em><b>:</b></em><em><b>05</b> </em></p><p>It turned out that Hamamoto Ryota owned a house just as nice as his father's. It was a little house in an average neighborhood close to Hamamoto Ken's, and the lawn and upkeep stood out from the rest. Ryota's wife greeted Gintoki and the kids at the front door, a little baby in her arms with bright eyes and only a single curl of dark hair.</p><p>“You must be the Odd Jobs! please! Let me take you around back!” Ryota's wife said. She was a small woman with a bright smile, sparkling eyes that were just attractive as her husband's. Kagura was instantly taken with the tiny child, making faces and cooing at him while they made their way around the house and into the backyard.</p><p>Cute, but strange. <em>He's got it all. Guess he's not as young as I thought he was.</em></p><p>Gintoki made sure to keep the kids between him and the small woman, made sure he could see them at all times like they were walking into dangerous territory. His eyes darted around quickly, no sign of Ryota anywhere. But the hairs on Gintoki's arms were standing on end, the general sense of safety shattered the second they passed through the back gate.</p><p>With a laugh, the woman showed them the fence that needed to be painted, and it sure was a mess. Half the fence was still green, the other half white with the green showing through. Most of the panels looked brand new, the whole pristine backyard screaming money.</p><p>“So where's your husband?” Gintoki asked, inspecting the fence with the kids.</p><p>“He's at work.” Ryota's wife said, bouncing the baby on her hip. She didn't look bothered that Ryota wasn't around. It was comforting to see other people didn't find the man creepy. Maybe it was just Gintoki? “I hope you don't mind, but he should be back later this evening. I can still pay you if he's not back before you're done.”</p><p>“Alright.” Gintoki said, hands on his hips. Gesturing at the fence, Gintoki flashed Shinpachi a wide smile. “Let's show her what we can do!”</p><p>They finished before Ryota had come back, finished fast enough and efficiently enough that Gintoki didn't have to even <em>see</em> Ryota. They even got handed a bonus that the kids did their best not to immediately hoot over, waited until they were out of the yard to start excitedly yelling.</p><p>“Can go out to that one fancy restaurant and have hotpot for dinner?” Kagura yelled on their way home, bouncing as she went. Kagura was way too excited at his side, her eyes big and her smile bright. “Please?”</p><p>“Kagura, hotpot is expensive. We should save, you know. Gin-san? Maybe we can do something less fancy?” Shinpachi suggested, and Gintoki suspected his answer would impact the milk stock in his fridge.</p><p>“Eh? Save? But it's hotpot.” Gintoki said glancing over his shoulder. “We can do hotpot tomorrow at home, there's no problem with that. You only live once, you know?”</p><p>“Yes!” Kagura hooted, jumping in the air so high Gintoki was actually impressed. She stooped just long enough to pat Gintoki on the hand, a gesture that left Gintoki staring at his skin in confusion. Was that praise? Did she just try to praise him in a different way because she had no snacks to give him? He was suddenly thrown for a loop. Had Kagura ever done that before? Why did he feel like a puppy getting a treat for not peeing on the floor?</p><p>“Hotpot for dinner tomorrow!” Kagura yelled, spinning on Shinpachi and throwing both of her hands into the air. Shinpachi automatically gave her a double high five, their palms slapping off each other. “Don't be late tomorrow Pachi! All our hard work is paying off!”</p><p>“What about today?” Shinpachi asked, but he was smiling, caught up in Kagura's excitement. “What are you going to do today? Take your share and go drinking?”</p><p>“Of course not.” Gintoki waggled his eyebrows because yes, that was exactly what he was going to do.</p><p> </p><p><em> <b>[July </b> </em> <em> <b>10</b></em><em><b>] </b> </em> <em> <b>Friday</b></em><em><b>, </b> </em> <em> <b>2</b></em><em><b>3</b></em><em><b>:</b></em><em><b>4</b></em><em><b>1</b> </em></p><p>Gintoki snorted over his empty mug of beer, sliding it across the counter towards the bartender. The music was loud in his ears, the chatter drowning out most of his thoughts. This week hadn't been as good as last, but it had been close. It turned out, Gintoki had spent most of his time stressing over someone who had turned out not to even be a problem. He hadn't seen Ryota in over twenty-four hours, and that made Gintoki feel like his stress had been silly.</p><p>“Another round for me and my friend here!” Gintoki exclaimed gesturing to the sad, crying pair of sunglasses sitting in the stool next to him. It was so pathetic, that Gintoki had felt obligated to share some of his bonus.</p><p>And he <em>might</em> have felt a little suspicious about drinking alone and being caught wasted.</p><p>“Gin-san!” Hasegawa cried, actual tears streaming down his face as he spun in his chair. He was drunk on Gintoki's cash, drunk and still complaining about his life and every wrong Gintoki had ever committed against him, which <em>apparently</em> was a really long list. “You know it's your fault my life is in shambles, right? You know it's your fault I lost my job and my wife left me!”</p><p>Gintoki just laughed, his hand still waving for the bartender to come back over because he <em>knew</em>. He knew what he had done and he knew how Hasegawa's life had turned out afterward. Gintoki had ruined a lot of things in his own life, ruined a lot of people, and he lived with that every day. He drank to it every week, making false promises to do better the next week, to atone. It was a cycle. A loop of despair and disappointment. It was still kind of shitty, but Gintoki was getting better.</p><p>The bartender didn't make it over to them before Ryota.</p><p>“Gintoki!”</p><p>Immediately recognizing that voice, Gintoki jumped in his seat, whipping around to face the other man as he sat down in the stool to Gintoki's right. Hasegawa's complaints were suddenly forgotten, Gintoki's buzzed brain instantly analyzing the threat sitting beside him.</p><p>“Don't you think you've had enough, Gintoki?” Ryota asked, spinning in his barstool to face him. He grinned, leaning onto the counter, his sudden presence too close and too jarring for Gintoki to comfortably accept.</p><p>Gintoki's eyes narrowed. “Why are you-”</p><p>“Sorry, but I need to talk to you. It's about the fence.” Ryota said, before leaning over sideways so that he could see Hasegawa and flash him a pearly smile. “Could you give us a minute, old man? It's about work.”</p><p>“I'm closed.” Gintoki said, spinning back in his seat and grabbing his empty mug, just to keep something in his hand that wasn't his sword. Suddenly, his hands were cold, and suddenly, Gintoki's buzzed brain was <em>very aware</em> of the sword at his hip.</p><p>“Ah, but it's really important.” Ryota said, fluttering his fingers at Hasegawa, trying to send him away. “Really important.”</p><p>“No.” Gintoki slammed his mug down onto the counter, standing up abruptly. He turned towards Ryota, the irritation clear in his tone. “No, we are going to go outside, because <em>I</em> need to talk to <em>you</em>.”</p><p>Ryota only glanced up, his eyes sparkling in the dim lighting.</p><p>Outside, the wind was warm against Gintoki's skin, sobering him. He'd only had two beers so far, was hardly buzzed if this turned into a physical altercation. Outside at the corner of the establishment, Gintoki leaned against the brick wall, his arms crossed and his hip jutting out to show off his wooden sword. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”</p><p>“With me?” Ryota asked like he hadn't done <em>anything</em>, his eyebrow quirking. “What about <em>you</em>?”</p><p>“What <em>about</em> me?” Gintoki snapped, eyebrows furrowing because they <em>didn't know each other</em>, and who was this idiot to talk to him like he did? “You're the one calling and coming around all the time, being annoying and creepy and stressing out my employees, who are <em>children</em>. Don't you have any manners? Were you raised by wild gorillas?”</p><p>Ryota chuckled, head tilting. “Were you raised by a rogue samurai out in the countryside?”</p><p>Gintoki's eyebrow twitched.</p><p>“What is wrong with your fence?” Gintoki snapped because, at the end of the day, this was <em>all</em> because of that stupid shed they painted. Who even paints the inside of a fucking shed? And who paints it white, of all colors? Who even needed a shed that fucking big?</p><p>“Nothing.” Ryota said. “I just needed an excuse to get you alone.”</p><p>“What do you want from me?” Gintoki asked his blood already boiling. <em>I just needed an excuse to get you alone.</em> Suddenly, Gintoki was on edge. Suddenly, Gintoki felt personally threatened, and he was about to return the gesture. What the hell did this man want with him? Why did he keep coming around? What did he think he was going to get?</p><p>“I just... want your company.” Ryota said. His eyes glimmered in hope, his smile not as bright, but still pleasantly spread across his face. “Maybe.”</p><p>“Maybe?”</p><p>“See, Gintoki, you never ask the right questions. You're very self-centered, it seems.” Ryota said, laughing gently. “You've never asked me <em>why.</em> Never tried to look at this from my perspective.”</p><p>Gintoki blinked at him, his eyes narrowing more. <em>Why?</em> He wouldn't ask why, didn't think he really wanted to <em>know</em> why. So he straightened from the wall and turned away. If Ryota wasn't going to fuck off, and if Gintoki didn't have a good enough reason to hit him without being arrested, then Gintoki was just going to have to walk away and deal with this some other way.</p><p>“If there's nothing wrong with your fence, I'm going back inside.” Gintoki snapped. “And I sure as fuck don't want to see you following me around tonight.”</p><p>“Do you know a man named Shouyou?” Ryota called the second Gintoki took a few steps away. “Yoshida Shouyou?”</p><p>Gintoki's blood ran cold. He shivered, his jaw clenching as he shakily glanced over his shoulder, his eyes widening in genuine surprise. He hadn't heard his Sensei's name in <em>years</em>, hadn't even heard that full name from Takasugi's lips, and Takasugi was the only one who brought up the past every chance he got. And at that moment, Gintoki couldn't breathe, couldn't even think. <em>How does he know? Who...</em></p><p>“Were you one of his students?” Ryota asked, still smiling bright, as he waved for Gintoki to come back to him, to unfreeze his legs and move closer. “I just… I want to hear what you have to say.”<br/>Gintoki's mouth was dry, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He didn't answer, his thoughts finally starting to form coherent sentences once again. He didn't move, schooled his expression again, eyes locked on Ryota. Gintoki looked him over again, looking for anything he recognized, but he didn't remember shit.</p><p>“I was his student too.” Ryota said. He grinned then, fondly, and Gintoki's expression must have grown horrified because suddenly Ryota was approaching him with concern on his face.</p><p>“Hey, are you going to pass out?” Ryota asked in worry, his hands curling around Gintoki's forearms like Gintoki was unsteady. Was he unsteady? Was he swaying or was that just the alcohol?</p><p>“What?” Gintoki managed to get out, his eyebrows still creased together. “I don't-”</p><p>“You don't remember me.” Ryota said. He laughed then, his hands still warm on Gintoki's skin. “I'm sorry about being so creepy but… I wasn't sure who you were at first, and then I was morbidly curious and… well… I think you can understand? I'm a little awkward, I don't know. Sorry? Sensei took me in closer to the end. Everything went wrong right after I arrived and I always wondered if it was my fault, but I remember you and Katsura and Takasugi. I was always too shy, but I wanted to properly meet you guys, and it might not have been much, but Shouyou really saved me that day.”</p><p>Yeah, Gintoki's head was definitely spinning. He flipped his palms upward, grasping onto Ryota's forearms for help. <em>He was stalking me because… we were classmates? And he wasn't sure?</em></p><p>“And?” Gintoki asked because he didn't see what Ryota was getting at. So what, they had been classmates? His voice cracked, <em>Shouyou</em> bringing everything back, the love, the care, the pain, the horrors. It was overwhelming.</p><p>Discretely, Gintoki took a deep breath.</p><p>“And I wanted to… I don't know… I guess I wanted to talk to you but I wasn't sure and I didn't want this opportunity to slip through my fingers and-” Ryota laughed. He glanced down then, eyes on his shoes. “Let me buy you a drink?”</p><p> </p><p><em> <b>[July </b> </em> <em> <b>1</b></em><em><b>1</b></em><em><b>] </b> </em> <em> <b>Satur</b></em><em><b>day</b></em><em><b>, </b> </em> <em> <b>00:00</b> </em></p><p>Gintoki ditched Hasegawa, didn't even tell him he was leaving. He also forgot to pay his tab by accident, not that it was anything new. Ryota walked him to a small stand that had tables overlooking a nice gentle hill. During the day, they would be able to see the canal from where they sat, but at night, Gintoki could only hear the water. Ryota paid for drinks, and Gintoki found that he suddenly wasn't too keen on slamming back one too many.</p><p>“Why didn't you tell me sooner?” Gintoki asked. He was still wary but he was searching his brain, couldn't remember ever seeing this guy for the life of him. But they had been kids, small and awkward looking, and then Shouyou had been taken away and-</p><p>“I said I wasn't sure about who you were, and well, your <em>name </em>isn't exactly something you should carelessly accuse people of.” Ryota said as he sat down across from Gintoki at the small table, sliding an open bottle Gintoki's way.</p><p><em>Your name.</em> Gintoki stared at the beer. <em>He means the Shiroyasha.</em></p><p>“We were kids back then and Shouyou only introduced me to the class. I never really interacted with anyone. I doubt you'd remember me. Hell, I wasn't even sure if the Katsura running amok in our streets was the Katsura I remembered, but his face sure hasn't gotten anymore masculine. But even then… we were so little. I'm still not even sure that's him.”</p><p>Gintoki chuckled at that, taking a sip.</p><p>“And your hair? I can't say I've met many people who look like you.” Ryota said. He was grinning suddenly, beaming. “Sorry about the creeping, I was just... Look. I just… I just wanted to ask… what happened...”</p><p>Gintoki took another sip of his beer.</p><p>“I wasn't there for long, but Shouyou really did save me from the streets. And then suddenly he was gone and half of the kids I had just met were going off to war to rescue him and I...” Ryota tapered off, sipping at his drink. “I joined the war later. I heard all about you and Katsura and Takasugi, but I never got a chance to find you guys. I was injured shortly after, young and stupid, you know? So I didn't last long anyway.”</p><p>Gintoki hummed, slamming back his beer anyway.</p><p>“Did you ever find him?” Ryota asked. “Were you able to save Sensei in the end?”</p><p>Gintoki finished the last drop in his bottle. He stood up, chair scraping against the patio. He hesitated a moment, trying his best not to remember but failing anyway. <em>Great, is this going to send me in a downward spiral for the next week? Does o</em><em>ne good week mean three bad ones?</em></p><p>“No.” Gintoki said, and he let that admittance hang between them for a moment.<br/>They never saved shit.<br/><br/>“Thanks for the drink.” Gintoki said, his voice not reflecting the pain in his heart.</p><p>He walked away then, shoving his hands into his yukata. Suddenly, he didn't feel like drinking anymore, didn't feel like chatting. Ryota didn't stop him from leaving. Didn't even call after him. And perhaps now that Gintoki had admitted it, this would all be over.</p><p>With a heavy heart, Gintoki went home and went to bed.</p><p> </p><p><em> <b>[July </b></em><em><b>1</b></em><em><b>1</b></em><em><b>] </b> </em> <em> <b>Satur</b></em><em><b>day</b></em><em><b>, </b> </em> <em> <b>10:42</b> </em></p><p>“Gin-chaaaaaan!”</p><p>Gintoki groaned, rolling away from the sound of his name being screamed, wrapping the pillow around his ears so he didn't have to hear. He didn't want to wake up, didn't want to get out of his futon. And maybe if he ignored the girl excitedly yelling at him, he wouldn't have to.</p><p>Moments later, Kagura came bounding into the room, jumping on his midsection and making him jerk awake. She slapped her hands into his face, grabbing at his cheeks.</p><p>“Gin-chan! That client from the other day has called back twice! I keep telling him you'll call him back, but he sure is persistent! You gotta get up!” Kagura yelled, wrestling the pillow out from between Gintoki's fingers. “You need to call him back! Call him back! Tell him we're busy later getting hotpot! He's being really annoying! He called <em>twice.</em>”</p><p>Gintoki groaned, rolling over and shoving at Kagura to get her off of him. He was already annoyed, already knew there wouldn't be any milk in the fridge, and was already exhausted because why the fuck didn't Ryota <em>listen?</em> Was his skull thick? “Which client? The client with the fence? Ryota?”</p><p>“No, the old guy with the shed!” Kagura said, bouncing on his midsection in her excitement.</p><p>“Shed?” Gintoki asked, surprised. He rubbed at his face before sitting up, slapping the pillow into Kagura's face to knock her off him. <em>The stalker's father?</em> Gintoki groaned, waving his hands at Kagura to get off so he could get up. “What did he say?”</p><p>“He won't talk to me, he wants you.” Kagura said. “Said it was adult business or something stupid like that. Sounds to me like you screwed it up and he wants you to fix your own mistakes!”</p><p><em>Sounds to me like he thinks </em>you <em>guys screwed it up and wants me to fix </em>your<em> mistakes. </em>Gintoki groaned, shoving his hand under his shirt to scratch his belly. People were so annoying. Life was so annoying. All he needed was milk.</p><p>He showered tiredly and brushed his teeth, staring at himself disappointingly in the mirror. He had left Hasegawa to have a gross conversation, and in the end he hadn't even gotten drunk. <em>This sucks.</em> Ignoring his hair, Gintoki dragged his feet over to his desk where he flopped down, kicking his feet up and reaching for the phone. He rung up the number Kagura had scrawled down on the notepad and placed the receiver to his ear.</p><p>“Hello, this is the Hamamoto residence.” That wasn’t the voice Gintoki had been expecting.</p><p>Gintoki didn't immediately respond, wondering if he had accidentally rung up the wrong number before remembering he was calling the stalker's <em>father.</em> He had gotten so used to expecting Ryota that Gintoki had forgotten other people existed.</p><p>“Odd Jobs. There's a problem with your shed?” Gintoki asked, leaning back in the chair and closing his eyes. He rubbed at his forehead, a headache starting.</p><p>“Yeah.” Hamamoto said. “Um. It's not exactly time-sensitive so you can come down whenever you need too, just...”</p><p>Gintoki waited, eyes opening to turn up to the ceiling. <em>Ah, so it really is like this.</em></p><p>“Could you not bring the kids?” Hamamoto asked, sounding a little awkward. “It's just… It's… well I don't want to <em>blame</em> them, I'm sure they're good workers. It's just that the problem is in all the spots that they were working on down low near the ground and-”</p><p>“I get it.” Gintoki said. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. Some people saw kids and just felt the need to complain about them. “I'll come down and fix it. I can fit you in sometime after lunch today?”</p><p>“That will work.” Hamamoto said.</p><p>Gintoki hung up, sighing.</p><p>“What happened?” Kagura asked. She came out of the kitchen, drinking a glass of orange juice. Gintoki eyed the glass, head tilting. Kagura didn't like apple juice, he knew that for a fact. <em>Is she trying to condition Shinpachi too?</em></p><p>“You guys fucked up.” Gintoki said, teasingly, waving her finger at her. “But don't worry, Gin-chan is on the job! Make sure you help Granny today, alright?”</p><p> </p><p><em> <b>[July 1</b></em><em><b>1</b></em><em><b>] </b> </em> <em> <b>Satur</b></em><em><b>day</b></em><em><b>, </b> </em> <em> <b>12</b></em><em><b>:</b></em><em><b>33</b> </em></p><p>“Sorry about this.” Gintoki said, following Hamamoto into his backyard for the second time that week. It looked like the man was digging out a garden now, a big patch of lawn torn up, boards placed haphazardly in a large square. Perhaps his wife was being picky about the dimensions, resulting in the mess.</p><p>“I don't mind finishing the job. Can I ask what happened?” Gintoki asked, wondering if he did a good enough job, he could get paid a little extra himself. Under the table, kids didn't have to know.</p><p>“Well, I didn't notice at first because everything else was really good.” Hamamoto said, searching through his thick key ring for the key to the shed. “But it looks like all the paint came off from the bottom of the walls in the back corners? I'm not sure if you guys missed them or if the paint was just wet when I first looked and then dried lighter, but there's an issue down there. And with my lung condition, I can't just fix it-”</p><p>“I understand.” Gintoki said. Hamamoto moved aside a shovel from where it was leaning against the door, throwing it into the nearby wheelbarrow that was full of grass and dirt. Hamamoto opened the shed door, and Gintoki flipped the switch for the light as he stepped in first to inspect the damage.</p><p>“You know, I never did ask what you needed such a large shed for.” Gintoki said before crouching down in the far right corner. He inspected the paint, head tilting. Did this old man need his eyes checked? The paint looked fine. He stood up, moving to the other corner, a suspicion suddenly passing over him as he crouched down. This side looked good too.</p><p>“Hey, old man?” Gintoki asked, glancing up over his shoulder at Hamamoto. His mouth opened wide just as his eyes did, could do nothing but quickly inhale. The wide side of the shovel slammed into the side of his head before he could say anything.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Some Things End Faster Than They Started</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> <b>[</b></em><em><b>Probably still </b> </em> <em> <b>July </b> </em> <em> <b>11</b></em><em><b>] </b> </em> <em> <b>Probably still </b> </em> <em> <b>Satur</b></em><em><b>day</b></em><em><b>, </b> </em> <em> <b>??:??</b> </em></p><p>Gintoki woke up on his side with a groan. His knees drew up closer to his chest protectively, a cold dull ache throbbing through his body. The left side of his head was pounding as he pried his eyes open, a warm burn pulsating at his temple. After a couple of blinks in the pitch black, his eyes widened sharply and he sat up way too fast, his head immediately spinning and sending him back to the concrete ground beneath him, cool beneath his cheek. He panted through his nose, the anxiety slamming into him and making him curl up. He suddenly remembered, suddenly realized he had let his guard down, had done everything <em>wrong.</em></p><p>Inhaling sharply through his nose, Gintoki tried to keep himself calm, tried not to panic because that wasn't going to help him right now. There was a blindfold over his eyes so even if there was light in the room, he wouldn't be able to see anything. There was duct tape slapped firmly over his mouth, some of the hair by his ears caught up in the tape as well. His hands were tied together behind him with what felt like rope, his wrists and fingers numb just like his ankles. He shifted a little, ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure his sword was <em>not</em> at his hip.</p><p>
  <em>Oh shit, oh shit, what is this?</em>
</p><p>It took a few moments, Gintoki just lying there trying not to hyperventilate, when he heard a lock pop, the same sound he had heard earlier when Hamamoto had been opening his shed. Earlier right? And then the shovel-</p><p>
  <em>Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.</em>
</p><p>A few minutes later, a light flickered on, two pairs of footsteps entering the shed and sliding the door noisily closed behind them. Gintoki inhaled deeply, reigning in any sense of panic, going for casual annoyance. He had talked his way out of a lot of shady things. This would be no different.</p><p>
  <em>It's okay, I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm-</em>
</p><p>“Gintoki.” That was the father, no doubt. Hamamoto's voice was lower, smoother than Ryota's. Gintoki inhaled deeply, his mind returning back to Ryota, to the realization that… if Ryota had been one of Shouyou's students and had been injured in the war, that meant he<em> hadn't had parents </em><em>left</em><em> in the first place.</em></p><p><em> Did he lie to me? Or just fail to mention he was adopted? </em> <em>It's totally normal to be adopted, I mean I was basically adopted by Otose, it's not like- this is irrelevant!</em></p><p>“Gintoki, relax. Take a deep breath, we're not going to do anything to you right now.” Hamamoto said, his voice gentle like he was talking to a child. It didn't soothe Gintoki's nerves, it only served to make them worse.</p><p><em>I never asked what they do for a living. What if this is what they do for a living? </em>If Gintoki could, he would have laughed. But Gintoki heard Hamamoto step closer and squat down, his jeans audibly crinkling at the knees. Hamamoto slid the blindfold further up Gintoki's forehead so that Gintoki could see him, his hand warm against Gintoki's chilled skin. Gintoki glanced up to him, his eyes wide but not fearful, just confused and pissed. If he could speak, he'd be swearing already. Standing back by the door with his arms crossed was Ryota, his face unreadable.</p><p>The shed wasn't empty anymore either. There was a large, fuzzy red rug laid out on the floor, taking up half the room, mesh white curtains draped over the walls with little hanging lights to make that corner look more attractive. There were pillows and a simple low bed frame, satin red sheets neatly made on the low mattress. On Gintoki's side of the room, closer to the door, there was a camera aimed at the corner scene and a large wooden table holding boxes of who knew what. One of the boxes was open, and Gintoki could see colored fabric.</p><p>Gintoki blinked. And he blinked again, immediately realizing what this was.</p><p><em>Oh no!</em> Gintoki tried to jerk his face away as Hamamoto snatched up his jaw between his forefinger and thumb. He tilted his head, those eyes looking over Gintoki's features before glancing at the side of Gintoki's head where he had hit him.</p><p>“Oh, yes, look at that face. And that hair. How's your head feeling? Sorry, I hit you so hard.” Hamamoto said, tilting Gintoki's face up to inspect it. “Ryota, You did well if he's the real deal.”</p><p>“Thanks.” Ryota said, quietly moving across the room. “He <em>is</em> the real deal. He was at Shoka Sonjuku, he confirmed it himself. He's the Shiroyasha, unless he just happens to have the same hair and name as the actual Shiroyasha. Regardless, he's still close enough to the real deal to get away with it.”</p><p>“Good. He'll sell.” Hamamoto said, patting Gintoki's cheek. He looked pleased, and Gintoki was instantly furious. “You made the calls already, right?”</p><p>“Yeah, before I got here.” Ryota said. “They should be here within the hour.”</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>Gintoki's eyes widened, his eyes flickering between Hamamoto and Ryota. His plea to keep the blindfold off was muffled by the tape when Hamamoto reached for the fabric again, sliding it back down over Gintoki's eyes. He began to wiggle in earnest, trying to pull his hands free from the binds behind him, trying to kick out both legs and make contact. With his sight gone and his hands bound and the concrete beneath him, he was reminded of worse places. Places he had done his best to forget about, should they try to rule over him.</p><p>What was to come, they had done back then too.</p><p>“Shiroyasha, hey? He's kind of docile, don't you think?” Hamamoto asked, his voice moving away as he stood up from beside Gintoki. “Wonder what they did to him to make him lose his bite.”</p><p>“Beats me.” Ryota said. “But I know what <em>I'd</em> do.”</p><p>Hamamoto walked away, his dress shoes slapping on the concrete, but Gintoki heard Ryota linger a moment. The hairs on Gintoki's arms stood on end, the other man watching him intently. Gintoki could <em>feel it</em>, could feel the scrutiny from afar, hated that he was powerless to stop it, just like many other things in his life.</p><p>Ryota moved away, his sneakers quiet on the floor.</p><p>Both footsteps disappeared outside and then suddenly, the light flickered off showering Gintoki in darkness. The door to the shed was noisily closed, the lock definitively clicked back in place. The silence settled on him like dust, the chill seeping into his bones.</p><p>
  <em>Deep breaths. Deep breaths.</em>
</p><p>After several moments of silence, Gintoki started to struggle in earnest.</p><p> </p><p><em> <b>[</b></em><em><b>Probably </b> </em> <em> <b>July 12] </b> </em> <em> <b>Probably </b> </em> <em> <b>Sunday, ??:??</b> </em></p><p>When they came back, the lock popping with a terrifying <em>click</em>, excited voices echoed in from outside. Gintoki was panting through his nose, struggling to catch is breath. He had no idea how long it had been, but he had wiggled away from his original spot. Wasn't sure how far but it was far enough to find out that he was tethered to the ground like a dog on a short leash. He had tried to stand up, but the furthest he had gotten was to his knees before the leash pulled at his arms. His wrists were raw and bleeding, the blindfold pushed up annoyingly by his eyebrows, the side of his head scraped from rubbing his face into the concrete. The tape was still firm over his mouth, his boots the only thing saving his ankles from rope burn.<br/><br/>He had realized at some point during his struggles that his clothes had been changed. He wasn't wearing his yukata, that he knew for sure because a haori was ridding up his back from all the movement. His pants were too loose and too baggy to be his regular ones just like his shirt. Little details Gintoki had slowly realized over the course of several anxiety attacks, the whole scene taking him back in time to a cell he had begrudgingly called home, they all told Gintoki details about his situation he'd rather not know in advance. Gintoki had started to wheeze then, the <em>Shiroyasha</em> coming back to his mind, the camera, the whole set up, the anticipation of what was going to happen next.</p><p>He was tired. Exhausted even, as the shed light came on and <em>several</em> people entered the spacious room. Blinded, Gintoki only heard Hamamoto's dress shoes again and his voice, excitedly explaining. Ryota and a strange pair of sneakers were next, and then there were heavy pairs of boots following behind.</p><p>The door was closed and locked behind them, five bodies entering the shed. Gintoki glanced over the three newcomers, his heart sinking in his chest. One of them was a large, brown, furry Werewolf Amanto, the other a human who didn't seem quite right. His hair was too blonde, his eyes too blue. And the third was a rather attractive man with long dark hair pulled back into a bun, a short shaggy beard growing out just enough to be rugged. His eyes cut to Gintoki first, curious at first but then narrowing into slits with recognition.</p><p>Gintoki glanced around. His sword was nowhere to be seen, his clothes missing as well. The table was still exactly as it had been, though the fabric from earlier was gone from view. Gintoki glanced down, his attire all white and awfully familiar, making him sweat instantly. <em>Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit-</em></p><p>“We can set the chairs up over here.” Hamamoto said, moving into the corner by the door. He had folding chairs, suggesting the group planned on sticking around for a while.</p><p>The Werewolf Amanto approached Gintoki while the others set up, sitting down, one clawed hand reaching for Gintoki's face. He was large and cream-colored, his eyes honey yellow. He had a nasty scar across the middle of his face, and was dressed traditionally like he was about to go gear up for battle. Gintoki's anxiety doubled.</p><p>“Ah, don't touch him yet.” Ryota snapped from across the room. “Just leave him be.”</p><p>“I already paid.” The Amanto said, his fingers gently grasping Gintoki's jaw between his fingers. His nails were sharp, but they didn't break skin as he turned Gintoki's face up. Tilting his head, the Amanto analyzed him intently, the scrutiny making Gintoki's mouth pull beneath the tape as he attempted to flash teeth. He knew what was happening here. This was some fantasy, wasn't it? A bunch of war veterans dreaming of the day they could overpower and manhandle the<em> Shiroyasha</em> from legends.</p><p>“Yeah. This is him, alright.” The Werewolf said. Gintoki's heart sunk, anticipation eating him alive. He didn't recognize the Amanto, doubted he'd ever be able to remember what he had done to him. But in those honey eyes that could have been beautiful, Gintoki could see that the Amanto recognized <em>him.</em></p><p>Gintoki glanced up just as the other humanoid Amanto approached, peering over the furry one's shoulder. His skin was too pale, hair too bright. He wasn't human, that was for sure. But he had a Resting Bitch Face, his eyes critical and expression unimpressed.</p><p>“Can't believe he was living under our noses this whole time.” The Amanto with the Bitch Face said, and the harder Gintoki looked, the more he suspected that one was a Yato. “Can't believe he fucking got away with it. The Shiroyasha? Living free? What is this world coming to?”</p><p>“He's beautiful for a human, though.” The Werewolf said, those glossy yellow eyes roaming over Gintoki's face, and then his body. He turned his body away from Gintoki's face, his clawed paw going for Gintoki's side. He gently grasped Gintoki's waist, thumb and hands wrapping around him. Gintoki did his best not to stiffen. “He's still in good shape too. Think we could let him put up a fight, get the adrenaline going?”</p><p>“I agree. Give the bastard some hope and let us take it away from him.” The Yato said, stepping away. He scrutinized from afar, his mouth twisted in displeasure.</p><p>“Stop touching him.” Ryota said, and he sounded a little possessive as he motioned for the Amanto to come over to him. “Now, we're going to do this like regular business. You three all know how this works. One round each on camera and we pace it to him. No funny business, and no blood for this session. You'll get your free turns after, rough but don't hurt him. And in a week or two when we have enough footage and we get him sober, we can start getting aggressive for the <em>other</em> clients, alright? This is just the appetizer.”</p><p>“Right.” The Werewolf Amanto said. He sounded disappointed. “The usual for now.”</p><p><em>Sober? </em><em>The usual? </em><em>In a week or two?</em> Gintoki was trying not to panic, was trying not to obviously inhale sharper than before. His hands were freezing cold, his heart hammering in his chest. His eyes flickered around the room quickly, too quickly to really see anything. <em>They've done shit like this before?</em></p><p>“If you want more after off-camera, you pay first, play after.” Hamamoto said, sounding annoyed like he'd had problems with this in the past. “You guys can have fifty-percent off the videos made tonight.”</p><p>“Only fifty-percent off? We're doing all the work for you.” The Yato complained, crossing his arms over his chest like they were debating basic labor.</p><p>“And did you go through all the work to stalk, plan, and abduct the Shiroyasha off the streets without getting caught or killed? No.” Ryota snapped like he had accomplished some massive feat. “And are you not getting the once in a lifetime chance to fuck the demon who took everything away from you? If anything, we're doing <em>you</em> a favor.”</p><p>The Yato scoffed but didn't argue.</p><p>“Father goes first.” Ryota said definitively. “We invited the three of you for today's session because we know your preferences. Don't get snarky about the prices. We could have just taken our fill and then scheduled you all individually.”</p><p>“I know, I know. We like to watch, be happy we have this opportunity, blah, blah.” The Yato complained. “Get yourselves the rest of the Joui, and you'll have yourselves a fortune.”</p><p>“Is that sarcasm?” The Werewolf asked.</p><p>“I just find it convenient that they found the <em>Shiroyasha</em> first, when Runaway Kotarou and that bastard Takasugi are frequently rearing their ugly heads.” The Yato complained. “I've heard the Dragon is up in space somewhere, playing business with Amanto. I just personally think it's funny that out of all the known Joui, Hamamoto caught the one rumored to be dead<em>.</em>”</p><p>“And I think you don't know when a good thing slaps you in the face.” The Werewolf complained. “This is him, we both know this is him. Perhaps he got too comfortable living an ordinary life.”</p><p>Gintoki inhaled as Ryota approached him, the guest's bickering lulling into the background. Ryota knelt down beside Gintoki's face, smiling gently, reaching out to softly touch his cheek.</p><p>“Alright, be a good boy.” Ryota said gently, pushing Gintoki onto his back with one hand. He had a large medicine dropper in the other, Gintoki's eyes snapping to the yellow liquid inside. Gintoki's eyes widened, and he started to squirm, the skin on his wrists tearing as he tried to break them free. Ryota's hand fisted into the front of Gintoki's shirt, an amused grin splitting his face.</p><p>“You'll be okay, I promise.” Ryota said, but he laughed when he said it.</p><p>Gintoki shook his head, trying to twist away, but Ryota firmly grabbed his jaw and tilted his head back, shoving the dropper up one of his nostrils. He squeezed the plunger, depositing its contents so that it could trickle down the back of Gintoki's nose. Gintoki groaned at the burn, tried not to inhale too soon less he start coughing and choking and then inevitably panicking from the tape sealing his mouth. Shaking his head as Ryota used both hands to keep his head back, the position reminded Gintoki of equally unpleasant things. Trying not to scream pathetically, trying not to cry, Gintoki choked when a disgusting taste suddenly emerged at the back of his throat, his first desperate inhale wet. He tried kicking his legs, but his struggles were futile and only served to crack up his audience.</p><p>“You're being so good.” Ryota cooed, sliding his hand through Gintoki's hair like he was comforting him. “Now listen. You're going to be okay after. This won't kill you even if I overdosed you.”</p><p>Gintoki glanced up, eyes narrowed. He growled when Ryota stood up, gesturing to the others. He twisted and shook his head, trying to clear his nose, trying to finally break free. He groaned low and frustrated, eyes squeezed shut because <em>fuck</em>, he should have done something days ago! He knew! He knew Ryota was no good, knew Ryota was trouble, and he hadn't even bothered to eliminate the threat!</p><p>“Father?” Ryota said, his tone appeasing.</p><p>“Let's give him ten minutes, and then we'll start.” Hamamoto Ken said. He was rummaging through one of the boxes, but Gintoki's blood was pounding in his ears, drowning everything out as he started to panic. <em>He overdosed me. He overdosed- I'm- They're going to-</em></p><p><em>Open him up, break him in easy.</em> Gintoki was glad they didn't want to hurt him, but ten minutes later, as the Amanto untethered him from the leash on the wall and dragged him to his shaky legs, Gintoki knew he wouldn't spare any of their lives the second he broke free. They didn't have to hurt him. They didn't have to make him bleed. What they were doing was enough to warrant his wrath.</p><p>They dropped him onto his side on the fuzzy carpet, Hamamoto standing eagerly at the side, watching and waiting. Gintoki was still panting through his nose from stress, struggling to catch his breath as the Amanto backed away. Ryota was next, leaned down and cut Gintoki's ropes at his ankles. The second Gintoki's ankles were free, he kicked Ryota in the face, his boots slamming straight into the man's nose.</p><p>“Shit!” Hamamoto yelled, just as the men who had paid for Gintoki's body hooted in excitement. There was a flurry of movement, a wavy of dizziness suddenly blurring Gintoki's vision before everything returned back to normal.</p><p>“Too bad we couldn't get that shit on camera.” The Werewolf chuckled.</p><p>Hamamotoonly grunted in response, dropping near his son to help him with his bloody nose. And pull him away from Gintoki. Gintoki jumped to his feet, eyes wide and cutting to the Amanto by his side. He was a little unsteady from how fast he was moving, the twinge of dizziness in his brain, but it wasn't enough to keep him docile.</p><p>“Block the door!” Hamamoto yelled, and the three guests responded immediately, slunk closer to the door, giving Gintoki space in the room. They were laughing excitedly, eyes bright and locked onto Gintoki's swaying form. They had done this before, they knew what they were doing, and standing there with his hands tied behind his back, Gintoki realized he didn't really have a way out, so he would have to do what Sakamoto liked to do and <em>talk.</em></p><p>Gintoki's eyes cut to Ryota still pathetically on the floor, Hamamoto pressing a cloth to his son's bleeding face.</p><p>“You have no way out.” Hamamoto said, smiling brightly like this fact alone meant he won. “And those drugs should kick in soon. You're not escaping, Gintoki.”</p><p>Like fuck Gintoki wouldn't try.</p><p>He jumped the binds awkwardly, getting his hands in front of him. The first thing he did was rip off that annoying blindfold from his forehead and toss it aside before tearing the tape from his face and taking in a nice, deep breath that wheezed in his chest.</p><p>“You're a bunch of fucking idiots.” Gintoki snapped, his eyes cutting to the younger Ryota first. “Fucking dumbasses. Where is my sword?”</p><p>“Like you're in any position to start bossing anyone around.” The Yato said, approaching swiftly. “You're lucky no one's taken your head yet. You're the worst kind of demon dragged from Hell, you know? We've been trying to get you and your pack of mongrels caught and executed for <em>years.</em>”</p><p>“Oh, shut the<em> fuck</em><em> up</em>. Like you're any better.” Gintoki snapped. He didn't back away from the Yato. Instead, he turned his body aggressively towards him, his legs spreading into an offensive stance. The Yato hesitated, eyes, flickering down. Gintoki wouldn't hesitate to kick him in the face. Between Kagura and her shitty older brother, Gintoki had enough experience to overpower an unsuspecting Yato. It would be a small window before the tables were turned back on him, but Gintoki would make it work.</p><p>“I was<em> there</em>.” The Werewolf Amanto suddenly snapped. He emerged from guarding the door, those honey eyes locked on Gintoki and Gintoki alone. “I remember you. I'll never forget your face, Shiroyasha. I remember you killing the people I love most, remember watching you rip through the camp like a phantom in the dark, striking from seemingly nowhere. You've committed so many sins, you don't even deserve to die.”</p><p>“Well obviously your training was shit, then.” Gintoki complained. “I've always hated guys who only reminisces about the past.”</p><p>Gintoki lunged then. The guests had moved away from the door, had staggered their position. Using his smaller frame, Gintoki was easily able to slip past the Werewolf who immediately lunged for him, was able to dodge the Yato as he tried to grab for Gintoki's arms. But when Gintoki kicked the silent man in the dick before lunging for the door, his whole body teetered over as his mind suddenly spun violently, and that second it took him to catch his balance got him caught.</p><p>His back hit the ground and he groaned, his head suddenly… he wasn't spinning, but he was off-balance. The drugs suddenly hit him full force and he groaned, his memory suddenly lapsing, confusion washing over him. His limbs were heavy as he struggled against the hands grabbing onto him, not sure who was touching where, his head lolling when the Yato hauled him back to his feet and dragged him back over to the carpet.</p><p>“I love it when they fight.” The Werewolf laughed as Gintoki was dropped heavily onto the carpet.</p><p>Gintoki groaned, rolling helplessly onto his side, the world suddenly starting to violently spin. He was still conscious and aware, but he didn't feel very good, his limbs uncoordinated, feeling like they were out of place. He hardly noticed his hands were being touched, the rope cut from his wrists. He grasped out, drunkenly rolling onto his belly like he was going to get up, his head spinning and his mind resetting, his previous thought process forgotten without a trace. His state was rapidly declining, whatever they had given him suddenly ravaging his system.</p><p>“Shit, we should have put a cloth down so he couldn't rip his wrists open.” That sounded like Ryota. Gintoki tried to angrily growl his name, but it came out more pathetic and whiny. He tried to pull his hands away, but they were being touched and cleaned.</p><p>“That's not going to look good on camera.” Hamamoto?</p><p>“We'll just wrap them up.”</p><p>Gintoki groaned. He rolled back over onto his back, his hands going to his face, his head tingling and his muscles going slack. Blood was throbbing in his ears, and while it wasn't unpleasant, it was quickly becoming <em>worse.</em></p><p>Hamamoto was suddenly there, pushing Gintoki's haori off, and touching his clothes, opening them and pulling at them.</p><p>“Hey, what the fuck.” Gintoki said, grabbing for Hamamoto's hands, trying to get his limbs to work so he could kick this man in the face too. Gintoki raised his leg, but Hamamoto only caught his boot and pushed it so Gintoki's was half on his stomach, sidling up between his legs before Gintoki could close his knees again.</p><p>“Hey-”</p><p>“Shut up.” Hamamoto said, shoving at Gintoki's shoulders to knock him off balance. On his stomach, Gintoki tried to struggle to his knees and elbows, his head spinning too hard and too fast for that. Hamamoto took advantage of the position, the sound of a cap popping behind Gintoki alerting him to the incoming danger.</p><p>“Hey, hey, what the fuck-”</p><p>“I said shut <em>up.</em>” Hamamoto snapped. With one hand he pulled the back of Gintoki's loose pants down and then pushed aside one of Gintoki's ass cheeks, and with the other coated in lube, he shoved a finger inside of him. Gintoki groaned, shifting uncomfortably as he tried to escape, his eyes closing because there was too much going on around him. Too many colors, too many sensations. He was horribly aware of the texture of the carpet beneath his forearms and legs, horribly aware of the slick, sticky lube currently sliding into his ass. His skin was cold but on fire, suddenly aware of his insides as that finger became two, sliding in and out of him. Gintoki groaned, head-spinning, the hair on his head and arms suddenly countable, the burn of three fingers suddenly stirring something hot and exciting in his lower belly.</p><p>When Hamamoto sunk a hand into Gintoki's hair and pressed his hot length into him, Gintoki moaned. He braced one hand back by his stomach, fingers curling into the carpet, sensitive flesh coming alive when the older man rocked into him, gliding Gintoki's body over the rug. Gintoki was seeing stars, literally, his attention and comprehension dwindling into confusion when Hamamoto was suddenly climaxing, the guests he had forgotten about chattering excitedly around him.</p><p>“Okay, let's get the camera on.”</p><p>Confused, Gintoki rolled onto his back. He glanced at the ceiling Shinpachi had painted, wondering how his pants were up around his waist again. He was dressed again and only slightly aroused, his disheveled clothes in place and Hamamoto was across the room already, fiddling with the camera. Didn't he just… didn't Hamamoto just…? Was he losing time?</p><p>The Yato turned the lights strung up on the walls above Gintoki's head on before turning off the shed light. Then the Werewolf dragged Gintoki up to his unsteady feet, pulling Gintoki off to the side of the room.</p><p>Gintoki caught Hamamoto making a hand gesture from behind the camera, and suddenly Gintoki was passed from the Werewolf to the Human. The Human shoved Gintoki back towards the carpet. Gintoki tripped over his own feet, crashing back down into the rug with a groan. Gintoki landed hard, his elbows jostled as he tiredly tried to get onto his hands and knees. He was struggling to keep up, struggling to make sense of what was happening.</p><p>“You deserve what's coming, Shiroyasha.” The Human spat, the man's boot shoving into Gintoki's ribs so hard that Gintoki was knocked over onto his side, dazed. Gintoki heard the belt unbuckle, but suddenly the drugs hit him <em>again</em> and his eyelids became incredibly heavy. He could hardly see, watching the Human kick off his shoes before cockily stepping closer to Gintoki with his hips pushed out, unzipping his pants so Gintoki could watch the reveal.</p><p>Gintoki closed his eyes. He couldn't focus.</p><p>“I'll have you begging for forgiveness.” The Human stepped over Gintoki's legs before raising one socked foot and pushing it painfully into Gintoki's sensitive groin. In the back of his mind, Gintoki couldn't help but think how cheesy those lines were.</p><p>“I don't beg for <em>anything</em>.” Gintoki giggled in amusement, his hands limp by his head.</p><p>The Human chuckled as he knelt down, straddling Gintoki's waist. He leaned over him, his lips ghosting past Gintoki's, his hand gently touching Gintoki's jaw.</p><p>“Is that so?” He asked gently, and Gintoki giggled when he immediately forgot what had been said. Gintoki whined, high in the back of his throat when the Human kissed, him those hands gentle on his clothes, Gintoki almost kissed back and <em>forgot</em>. Almost forgot he'd been bound and gagged some time ago. Forgot he'd been drugged against his will, was lying on a carpet about to be raped, this time <em>on camera.</em> Gintoki tilted his head back when the Humans lips touched his neck, his mind swirling out of coherency, his memory shattering, his limbs heavy and uncoordinated. He grabbed onto the sleeves of the Human's shirt, holding on because it was the only thing he could focus on. He succumbed then. The drugs took him away and he let them, hoped he wouldn't remember a single thing from what was about to happen next, but would wake up coherent and fighting.</p><p>Gintoki filtered back from the abyss in for the penetration, a heavy sigh leaving him because it didn't hurt, it actually felt alright. His body was burning, on fire, and a fleeting thought in Gintoki's lost mind was appalled, disgusted. But Gintoki hadn't ever felt this <em>good</em> before, the drugs doing something right because he was coming again, hardly without stimulation, his hips rocking in need and confusion and impulse.</p><p>Gintoki moaned through his orgasm, hardly aware that the Human wasn’t done, hardly aware when he was. Gintoki lost his pace, his time, his thoughts. He got lost in the pleasure, and then forgot it just as fast. When the Yato kicked him onto his back, Gintoki wondered if he had ever really lived at all.</p><p>The abyss was preferable.</p><p> </p><p><em> <b>[</b></em><em><b>It's Been So Long </b> </em> <em> <b>That</b> </em> <em> <b> It's </b> </em> <em> <b>Probably </b> </em> <em> <b>July 12] </b> </em> <em> <b>Probably </b> </em> <em> <b>Sunday, ??:??</b> </em></p><p>Gintoki suddenly gasped back to coherence, lurching where he lay. His forehead smashed into someone else, and Gintoki was rolling away, his cold hands shaking and his body falling over. He was tangled up in his yukata – his? Was it even his? – one arm trapped beneath him. It was dim, the cute lights hanging from the walls doing next to nothing to illuminate Gintoki's surroundings.</p><p>Everything came back to him. Everything slammed back into Gintoki's coherent thoughts, and Gintoki gasped once again before scrambling to his feet. There was a body hovering over him, hands grabbing and trying to push Gintoki's shoulders down. Gintoki's legs were splayed, someone's hips trapped between his own thighs.</p><p>“Shit.” It was Ryota on top of him, Ryota, reaching a hand out for Gintoki. Gintoki had only a split second to take in the scene and the only thought he got was that it was <em>bad.</em> “You-”</p><p>Gintoki gasped again, punching Ryota straight in the face with all the force he could muster. He caught him in the nose, Ryota's squawk turning into a quiet pained moan.</p><p>Shakily and uncoordinated, Gintoki shoved Ryota off of him and out of him, and scrambled onto his hands and knees. His vision was swaying as he carefully stumbled to his feet, and he lurched for the door, his mind responding faster than his body. The yukata he was wearing was hanging open but he didn't care, didn't even think about the danger of rushing out into Hamamoto's back yard.</p><p>Ryota slammed up behind him before Gintoki could even get the door open, his torso and hips shoving Gintoki into the wood and therefore pinning the door closed. Gintoki placed his hands against flat against the wood to brace himself, a heavy gasp leaving him.</p><p>“Nah, I'm not done with you.” Ryota said, his hands dropping to Gintoki's hips and shoving the yukata out of the way, fingers clenching around Gintoki's hip. He easily shoved his member back in, filling Gintoki up full and pinning him in place, one hand threaded in sweaty white hair pushing Gintoki's face into the door.</p><p>Gintoki moaned weakly, his insides tender and tingling pleasantly, the remnants of the bullshit coursing through his system leaving him pliant with stars in his eyes. He nosily gasped at each push, nails digging into the wood. Ryota took his sweet time, languidly sliding into him and plunging against the right walls, their hips rocking together.</p><p>Gintoki moaned, Ryota speeding up. He bounced them off the door, Gintoki hardening at the contact. He whimpered, his muscles still weak as he tried to press back to lessen the contact against the door, only sinking himself deeper onto the other man.</p><p>Ryota moaned into his ear before releasing, filling Gintoki up, his hands clenching painfully tight around Gintoki's hip and head. Panting into Gintoki's ear, Ryota milked every last second before he slipped out, his hands still kneading against Gintoki's pliant skin.</p><p>“You did well.” Ryota whispered into Gintoki's ear, his teeth nipping at the shell. “So good for a bad little war dog.”</p><p>Gintoki grit his teeth. He slammed his head back, the back of his skull colliding with Ryota's face. Again. The bastard was going to need a nose job once Gintoki was through with him. Regaining some of his strength, Gintoki whipped around where he stood, his instincts finally working properly even his brain wasn't. He slammed his fist into Ryota's face, sending the man down to the ground. Off balance, Gintoki fell with him, straddling him, fist meeting skin a second and third time for good measure. Ryota didn't moan, didn't even move as his head lolled to the side, bust eye swelling shut. He was unconscious, Gintoki's fingers clenching because he wanted to twist that neck, wanted to just kill him right then and there.</p><p>Gintoki gasped, his breath becoming more labored and quick as he stood up on shaky legs. He fell back into the wall, his back landing on the light switch.</p><p>The shed lights turned on. Gintoki shielded his face, his eyes sensitive. But he was quick to force himself to squint through the pain. Ryota could be unconscious for only a couple of seconds for all Gintoki knew, so he wanted to get out of there as fast as fucking possible.</p><p>But his eyes caught on his sword sticking out of one of the boxes in the corner. Desperately, Gintoki went for it, knowing that even if Ryota got up, Gintoki would have a better chance at escaping if he had a weapon in his hand. He could have found a <em>stick</em> for all he cared. If he could swing it, he could defend himself.</p><p>In the same box as his sword, Gintoki also found his clothes neatly folded and his boots folded beneath. He took only his yukata, anxiety and the incoming panic attack telling him he didn't have <em>time</em> to change. But the yukata he was wearing was stained and crispy.</p><p>Behind him, Ryota didn't stir. Gintoki shed the dirty white yukata he had been wearing – disgusting, he felt absolutely disgusting – and traded it out for his own. He tied it properly, that wooden sword always within reach in case someone came in. He shoved his feet into his boots next before turning back to the door feeling significantly more confident, his sword clenched tightly in his hands. He ignored his body, his breath wheezing out of him as he gave Ryota's limp form a quick glance. <em>If I won't kill him, I should break one of his knees.</em></p><p>If Ryota had been awake, he would have screamed.</p><p>When Gintoki cracked the shed door open an inch, the wood groaned. Peeking an eye out, there didn't seem to be anyone in the backyard from what he could see. The lights in the house were on though, looked like the kitchen, indicating that someone was up and about. <em>Or Ryota left them on so he could see where he was going when he returned.</em></p><p>Gintoki didn't hesitate.</p><p>With the wooden blade in his hands, he felt assured. He slipped out the door silently and closed it behind him, locking it so it would eventually stall for time. He ducked then, pain shooting up his back as he rounded the shed, bee-lining for the gate.</p><p>“Hey, Ryota! Get your pimp-ass over here-”</p><p>Gintoki froze, his body going cold, caught, the three guests from before all turning around to glance at him. There was a fourth and a fifth one now too, Amanto Gintoki didn't recognize. They were sitting around in lawn chairs outside, drinking with the owner. Gintoki froze up, eyes going wide, his eyes shooting to Hamamoto who was standing up from his chair, his mouth split open. The Amanto looked just as surprised as Gintoki was, the group of them frozen for a solid second before all Hell broke loose.</p><p>“Shit, he got out!”</p><p>“I told you it was a bad idea to let him be there alone!”</p><p>Gintoki instinctively moved.</p><p>It was one of those situations that had Gintoki's blood boiling in his veins. Each pulse thrummed beneath his skin burning him, egging him on, spurring him into motion without any consideration for the consequences. He was moving without thinking, his right hand clenched around the hilt of his wooden sword so tight his hand was bleeding from a crack in the wood sliding into his palm. He couldn't hear past the rush of his heartbeat in his ears, couldn't see past the minute movements and unguarded arteries. He fought in a blur, the previous swing of his sword meaning nothing when another strike was coming his way.</p><p>One mistake, and he wouldn't make it out alive. His arm was swinging in a perfect, clean arc that could take off a man's head in one fell swoop, but instead of a neck it finally connected with the chest of an Amanto, cutting deep. A yell. A holler. Another Amanto lunged. The world was enclosing around him, the darkness was swallowing him whole. Gintoki's breath was coming out in wheezing pants. He was moving fast, fighting fast, thinking fast, breathing fast.</p><p>He was panicking.</p><p>One Amanto down, two Amanto down, three.</p><p>Four.</p><p>Five.</p><p>It wasn't until Gintoki was running down the street in the middle of the night that he came back to his senses, the cold breeze in his face, chilling the sweat on his forehead and exposed arms. It wasn't until he was leaning against the pole of a street lamp, his left palm pressed against the cool surface as he bent over at the waist to choke on his own breath that he realized he had lost control of himself. The sword in his right hand was blistering his skin and leaving splinters, but he held onto it, the blade trembling in his grip and dripping blood. His own blood was still boiling in his veins, masking the pains in his body, the throb in his temples rhythmic and regular and drowning out any coherent thought.</p><p>But the loss of control wasn't from rage. It hadn't been anger.</p><p>It was fear.</p><p>He stood there, hunched over at the waist, trying to catch his breath, trying to hear past the thrum in his ears. Around him, the city was quiet in the night. There was no traffic, no pedestrians. It was just Gintoki and the streetlamp and the sidewalk in a residential area. The only movement was the breeze kicking up a tuft of leaves nearby and the sound of his panicked breathing.</p><p><em>What the hell just happened?</em> Gintoki righted himself, hand still on the pole just in case he lost his balance. His breath was starting to even out, the air burning his lungs and the back of his throat. The sting in his hand was starting to make itself apparent, just like the cuts and abrasions on his body. He glanced to the side, noting that the rest of the sidewalk was empty, that there wasn't another soul in sight. He was in the middle of a scenic path between neighborhoods. Nothing but trees and grass to witness him.</p><p>And shadows.</p><p><em>Take a deep breath. Relax. Focus.</em> Gintoki exhaled as he righted himself from the pole. He breathed out slowly, letting left his arm drop limply to his side. The thrum in his ears was starting to die out, distant sounds starting to register in his ears. He closed his eyes and re-centered himself. He needed to go home. Had to focus and force himself to unclench his right hand, the wooden sword clattering to the concrete below when his grip finally snapped open.</p><p>“Shit.” Gintoki said, his voice raw and his throat dry. He opened his eyes with a heavy breath, glancing down to the sword. It was covered in blood – his blood, Amanto blood, Human – and had splattered some on the pavement when it had struck the surface.</p><p>“<em>Shit</em>.” Gintoki said again. He raised his right hand, turning it palm up to glance at the bleeding cut. His skin was raw and red, palm torn open from his own sword. His wrists were wrapped, blood seeping through the white bandages. “<em>Shit!</em>”</p><p>He leaned down, pain flaring up his back, picking up the sword and slinging it through his belt. His head was spinning as he glanced around again, trying to get his bearings before he started to briskly walk.</p><p><em>Shit, my yukata.</em> Glancing down, his yukata was more red than it was white.</p><p>He started running. Again.</p><p>When he emerged into the street, he knew where he was. Out of breath, Gintoki slunk along the nearby brick wall, hurrying his pace. He made it halfway down the block before he had to stop, hunching over at the waist to catch his breath, his lungs frozen cold as he wheezed. His hands were shaking, a full-body tremble starting up, and Gintoki leaned into the wall, closing his eyes as he suddenly lost control of himself, the panic taking over.</p><p>Within moments he was crouched, his fingers in his hair and his mouth open wide as he gasped, his mind racing because he needed to get out of here and get home before they found him and took him and drugged him and fucked him and-</p><p>He made it home.</p><p>Gintoki noisily burst through his front door, the door sliding open so sudden and so loud that Sadaharu barked menacingly from inside the house. The Inugami was suddenly there in the hallway, flashing teeth Gintoki's way. His ears were flat back against his head and Kagura was yelling something about an intruder, also appearing in the doorway with her umbrella, ready to fight. Her hair was a mess, eyes narrowed, but the second they both saw Gintoki standing there, wheezing against his front door and covered in blood, the anger turned to worry, perhaps even fear.</p><p>“Gin-chan?”</p><p>Gintoki flopped against the wall, sliding along it straight to the bathroom where he slipped in and slammed the door behind him. He didn't say a word as he fell back against the wood, his breath only heaving heavier and heavier, hands shaking violently because he had been caught in the end, hadn't he? He couldn't keep silent about this, could he? He didn't know what to do, didn't know what to say, didn't know how to ask for <em>help-</em></p><p>“Gin-chan?” Kagura yelled, pushing on the handle behind him, but he was leaning against the door and she didn't push hard enough to open it. She could break in if she really wanted to, but her voice was scared and unsure. She started yelling, the door handle still jiggling, but Gintoki didn't hear a word she said.</p><p>Gintoki placed his hands over his eyes, sliding down the door, his breath leaving him in short pants that had his fingers closing stiffly and his body shuddering uncontrollably. He couldn't breathe couldn't think, couldn't <em>remember-</em></p><p>“Gintoki?”</p><p>Behind him, Otose knocked gently on the door. Gintoki wasn't sure how much time had passed, but the old lady sounded concerned and he could hear that through the whirlwind in his head. Kagura had stopped yelling it seemed, wasn't audible in the background at all.</p><p>“Can you open the door, Gintoki?”</p><p>Gintoki tried to tell her no, so he scooted over instead, just enough that Otose could open the door and slip in, but he was trapped behind the door, his back pressed into the corner of the wall. He felt safe, but the prospect of Otose seeing him too set him off again, one hand hovering over his mouth like it could stifle his wheezing.</p><p>The door opened just enough, bouncing off Gintoki's thigh, and Otose slipped in. She spotted him once she was in the room, her face instantly morphing into worry. She closed the door behind her before kneeling down beside him, the back of one hand going for Gintoki's forehead. Gintoki instantly grabbed onto her wrist, still gasping for breath. He tried not to squeeze too hard, but he needed her <em>here</em>.</p><p>“Do you need to go to the hospital?” Otose asked calmly, and when Gintoki shook his head she chastised him. “Use your words or you're going.”</p><p>“I'm okay, I'm okay.” Gintoki whispered, exhaling dramatically to try and reign in his breathing. He closed his eyes, pressing Otose's warm hand harder against his forehead. “Okay, okay, okay.”</p><p>He repeated that word over and over as Otose moved closer to him. She pressed her other hand against his chest, his heart racing beneath her palm.</p><p>“You need to take in a deep breath.” Otose warned. She didn't dare move her hands, and even with his eyes closed, Gintoki knew she was looking him over, could probably see what the problem was.</p><p>“Gin-chan?” Kagura's voice timidly cut through his wheezing. Gintoki opened his eyes to catch her slipping in through a crack in the door, immediately running to Gintoki's other side, hugging his arm. “Are you okay? Are you going to be okay?”</p><p>“Don't crowd him.” Otose said, and she sounded stern like she had already explained this to Kagura. Gintoki chuckled, leaning his head back as he staggered his breaths, his hand curling around Kagura's and squeezing harder than he ever would have dared before. Her little bones were stronger than his, and she squeezed back just as hard, the pressure instantly relieving.</p><p>“Did you drink bad milk?” Kagura asked, so small and innocently that Gintoki started to laugh. He started to laugh and choke on his breath until he was panting, shaking his hands free and pulling Kagura into a hug on his lap as he caught his breath.</p><p>Otose put a hand on his head, her fingers carding through his hair. The bathroom door popped further open, Sadaharu squeezing his frame in. He yipped ferociously, the proximity of them all reassuring Gintoki that he was as safe as he could get right now. His hands stopped tingling, his head stopped spinning. He was still freezing cold, but Kagura was warm against him, holding him tight.</p><p>“I'm okay.” He said, but he didn't push Kagura away. Not quite yet. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed but eventually, he shifted, laughing humorlessly under his breath. “Sorry, I'm sorry.”</p><p>“You disappeared last week and I was worried.” Kagura said.</p><p>Gintoki froze, glancing up at her. <em>Last week?</em> His shaky inhale alarmed everyone, Kagura instantly glancing at Otose for instructions.</p><p>“How about you go make him some tea?” Otose suggested, her hand landing firm on Gintoki's forearm. Her voice was calm, her face slack, but the tone was what Gintoki worried about. “Gintoki, relax. You're home.”</p><p>Kagura nodded eagerly as she jumped up, rushing out of the room with Sadaharu to go make some tea.</p><p>The second Kagura was gone, Otose pat Gintoki's arm, her old eyes scanning his face, instantly knowing that something was more wrong than normal. She didn't ask, just kept her hand on his until he calmed down a little more. He sheepishly leaned forward, his head to her shoulder.</p><p>“Sorry I came back like this.” Gintoki said, chuckling under his breath. They both knew he would rather nurse his wounds elsewhere and come back like nothing had happened. He also had no idea how he looked, had no idea what he had been thinking when he had rushed straight here, hadn't meant to alarm anyone. <em>What do I do now?</em></p><p>“Relax.” Otose said. She placed a hand on the back of his head, fingers catching in his sticky hair. She didn't comment, didn't mention it when Gintoki tensed, his eyes squeezing shut because he <em>knew</em> she wasn't stupid. “Calm down. We'll calm Kagura down, and then I'll patch you up downstairs, okay?”</p><p>Gintoki didn't answer, his eyes half-lidded in misery. He simply clutched onto her for a moment, his eyes squeezing shut, living in her warmth, before he finally pushed her away. He placed a hand to his forehead, eyes still closed, hands still shaky. He drew up his knees as he exhaled, eyes burning behind his hands.</p><p>“Let's go in the other room?” Otose asked. She didn't reach out for him again, her old eyes scanning over his body almost knowingly. “You'll feel better after you change.”</p><p>She was right. After shedding his yukata in his bedroom, Gintoki felt better. He put on something dark just in case, wasn't sure if he was bleeding, wasn't sure of a lot of things. But the fabric was clean and it smelled like his detergent, <em>Otose's</em> detergent, and that alone made him feel better, a little more secure. He wasn't freaking out. He was calm. Good. He was good.</p><p>In the living room, he gingerly sat down on one of his couches, accepting the cup of tea Kagura handed him. If he wanted to count his blessings, he was just glad the men hadn't left too many visible marks on him. Otose was in the kitchen it seemed, he could hear her touching his plates. She was filling up the sink, busying herself elsewhere while he settled.</p><p>“You didn't even leave me food money.” Kagura complained as she flopped into the couch beside him, turning on the TV like she hadn't been glassy-eyed and worried moments before. “You really need to stop drinking, Gin-chan, Momma's gonna have to put her foot down, aru!”</p><p>Gintoki snorted into his tea, his eyes on the cup. The normality of the conversation caught him off guard, tugged at his heartstrings. “What is this? A character relapse? When was the last time you said aru, aru?”</p><p>“Don't you 'aru' me, aru!” Kagura snapped, turning his way. “I've peaked as a lady because of stress. You're making me age before my time, Gin-chan!”</p><p>“Aru.” Gintoki finished, before sighing. He placed his tea down before turning Kagura's way. He reached out for her head to ruffle her hair but stopped a few inches short, his eyes suddenly cutting to his fingers. He didn't even know if they were clean.</p><p>Kagura knocked his hand away anyway, starting the conversation before Gintoki could apologize.</p><p>“You should have told someone!” Kagura yelled, big tears in her eyes. “Gin-chan, why can't you ever tell someone when there's something wrong?”</p><p>Gintoki chuckled, his eyebrows raising because <em>this</em> wasn't what he had expected Kagura to be upset about. “What?”</p><p>“It doesn't have to be me or Shinpachi! Cause we're kids, or whatever, but why can't you rely on your friends? Like Zura? Or that Tax-Thief? Why do you always have to be alone?” Kagura complained, and her voice wavered like she was about to cry.</p><p>“I'm not alone-” Gintoki tried, but Kagura wasn't having any of it.</p><p>“You're always alone!” Kagura yelled. Tears started to streak down her face. “Even when you have everyone around you, you're always alone!”</p><p>She cried then, threw her face into his chest and sobbed into his yukata. Gintoki loosely wrapped his arms around her with his hands curled away from her body, letting her cry. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to be feeling about this, because wasn’t <em>he</em> supposed to be the one crying?</p><p>“You worry over stupid things.” Gintoki said a few moments later, letting her just sit there. He was comfortable, a little nagging voice in the back of his head reminding him that he had <em>let</em> this go on for as long as it had.</p><p>“Yeah.” Kagura agreed. “Because you're so stupid.”</p><p>Gintoki snorted, chin resting on Kagura's head. He closed his eyes, making his decisions, and swallowing thickly. “How about you go to Shinpachi's for the night? I'll let Otose patch me up for once, and then when you guys come in the morning, it will be like nothing happened.”</p><p>“See?” Kagura wiggled out of his arms, getting to her feet. She pointed a finger in his face, more tears streaming down her cheeks. “You're so stupid!”</p><p>Surprised, Gintoki watched Kagura storm towards the door. “You never rely on anyone, and you always pretend like nothing bad ever happened to you! You're the biggest faker I've ever met!”</p><p>Gintoki's mouth opened in surprise, emotions welling up in his chest. He didn't get the chance to defend himself.</p><p>“You don't see me pretending like my mommy didn't die!” Kagura yelled before storming into the hallway, Sadaharu at her heels with his head lowered and ears flat back. “Sometimes I even talk about it! Goodbye, Granny! Make sure you're not gentle wrapping Gin-chan up!”</p><p>The front door slammed shortly after, the silence coming with it thundering in Gintoki's ears. Gintoki stared after Kagura, his mind swimming, his emotions on edge, and then he turned back to his tea. Maybe sleeping it off would be a good idea. Sleeping it off, and waking up the next morning like nothing had even happened. Maybe he would just sit there and drink his tea, and all of this would go away.</p><p>
  <em>If only.</em>
</p><p>“Hope you know she's right.” Otose said, coming out of the kitchen. She was drying her hands off on a towel, her eyes gentle on Gintoki. Gintoki didn't know what they had discussed prior, but Otose didn't look surprised at the turn of events. “Come downstairs. I'll patch you up.”</p><p>“I don't think there's much to fix.” Gintoki said quietly. “I can do it myself.”</p><p>“Your bathroom, then.” Otose said, making it clear she wasn't going to leave him. “Let's go.”</p><p>“It's fine.” Gintoki said. And maybe he hoped that Otose would just give in and forget about it. Kagura was gone, and when the old lady was gone he could lick his wounds pathetically while brooding over what he could do to take <em>care</em> of the situation. <em>His sword, slicing through flesh, cutting deep into organs-</em></p><p>“You don't get to show up here after being missing for a few days, scare Kagura, and then send me away like nothing happened.” Otose said in her no-nonsense tone. “It's not fair to any of us, <em>Gintoki</em>.”</p><p>Gintoki internally cringed at the use of his name, realizing he was in trouble.</p><p>“There's nothing to patch up.” Gintoki insisted.</p><p>“Then what happened?” Otose asked. She moved closer, sitting on the edge of the couch by him. “If you won't tell me, at least let me look. By this point, I know better than to let you run around with hidden injuries. You'll only cause more trouble like this. You're allowed help, you know.”</p><p>Gintoki sighed, dropping his head into his hands. He needed to appease her, needed to appease her without selling himself out, he just didn't know <em>how.<br/></em><br/>“Can I just...” What? Get some pain killers and hope they didn't interact with whatever it was coursing through his veins. Were the drugs still in his system? He sighed again, deep and miserable, sinking into his hands. Otose's hand landed on his back, gentle but firm as Gintoki shuddered out another breath, trying to figure out what he <em>needed</em>.</p><p>“Do you need me to call someone?” Otose offered, her hand unmoving. Gintoki didn't even consider her question, just immediately shook his head. Who would she call? Katsura would only make the situation worse? And Hijikata? Gintoki didn't even want to <em>hear</em> about police right now.</p><p>
  <em>His blade stabbed deep-</em>
</p><p>“It'll be fine.” Gintoki said. He sat up, reached for his tea in shaky hands. “It'll be fine. I just need to sleep. I'll apologize to Kagura in the morning. Please. Please just let me work this out for the night.”</p><p>Otose hummed, unconvinced. She glanced him over, her hand still on his back. She didn't move, didn't complain, just finally sighed. Gintoki didn't know what she was thinking, but he doubted he was off the hook.</p><p>Otose took her hand back and stood up. “I'll be checking in, but you're not off the hook.”<br/><br/><em>I'm off the hook for tonight at least.</em></p><p>She left him then, left him in his empty house. It was too empty, too cold, too quiet. Gintoki drank his tea and then showered twice, scrubbed himself cleaner than clean, pleased to see there weren't too many marks left behind. There were bruises from hands being repeatedly placed in the same spots, but otherwise, they hadn't hurt him. It was almost like he'd just had a nightmare, like nothing had really happened. It had all been in his head. His body was fine. His face was fine. The marks would be gone in a couple of days, were all easy to hide.</p><p>Except for his wrists. He wrapped those back up, hiding them from prying eyes.</p><p>He paced that night instead of sleeping. He paced all night with his sword slung through his belt, staying away from the windows but creeping up to the door, listening outside. They wouldn't come back for him, would they? He had beat the shit out of them, but they weren't dead, he hadn't killed anyone of them. They wouldn't try to abduct him out of his own house, would they? Would they go after Otose? The kids? Or had they all bled out and now he would be thrown into jail for the rest of his life, because at the end of the day, he would be accused as the Shiroyasha, and that would weigh more than the abuse he had suffered.</p><p>When the first streaks of morning light filtered in through the blinds, Gintoki finally retreated to his couch. He laid down, falling into a light sleep.</p><p> </p><p><em> <b>[July 17</b></em><em><b>] </b> </em> <em> <b>Fri</b></em><em><b>day, </b> </em> <em> <b>09</b></em><em><b>:</b></em><em><b>25</b> </em></p><p>Gintoki jerked awake when the phone rang, his eyes cutting over to the device. He jumped a second time when Shinpachi appeared from nowhere, waltzing over to Gintoki's desk like he hadn't a care in the world. Gintoki hadn't heard anyone come into his house, hadn't even <em>dreamed</em> during his sleep. In a panic, he jerked upright, worried someone else might have come into the house too.</p><p>“Don't worry. I'll get it!” Shinpachi said, his voice normal, hand on the receiver.</p><p>Gintoki opened his mouth to stop him, but Kagura was suddenly there, shoving his head back down to the couch. Gintoki gasped, eyes closing as he went down, his hand grabbing for Kagura's arm.<br/><br/>“Go back to sleep, idiot.” Kagura complained. When had she come back? Sadaharu was over there too, on her side of the couch, yawning so wide he was showing off his teeth. Had they come back really early? Had they stayed with him? <em>Wait! The phone!</em></p><p>“Wait!” Gintoki scrambled to his feet just as Shinpachi answered the phone. By the time Gintoki was across the room, Shinpachi was glancing up at Gintoki with wide eyes. He looked unsure suddenly, the voice on the other end low, but the person had stopped talking.</p><p>“Gin-san, it's for you.” Shinpachi said. He sounded unsure, which in turn made Gintoki very, <em>very</em> nervous.</p><p>And just like that, fear washed through Gintoki's stomach and chilled his hands. He had been awake for what? Five minutes?. It was Ryota, wasn't it? It was that time of <em>day, </em>wasn't it? Nervously, Gintoki too the receiver and placed it to his ear. Indifferent, Shinpachi left him to return to the kitchen, the smell of food burning wafting through the house.</p><p>“Hello?” Gintoki asked nervously, his eyes already narrowed for what was to come. Was it Ryota again? Starting back up first thing in the morning, just with new threats this time? Was he even okay? Gintoki had shattered one of his legs, after all, remembered seeing red and slamming the blade down, could intimately hear the sickening <em>crack.</em></p><p>“Odd Jobs.” It was Hijikata. Gintoki sighed in immediate relief, falling into his desk chair.</p><p>“Tax-Thief.” Gintoki complained, chuckling out his nerves. “What ever have I done to warrant a phone call at the crack of dawn, from the organization that upholds the laws and steals people's money?”</p><p>“It's not the crack of dawn, first of all, and second of all, I can't steal your money if you don't make anything, you lazy bastard.” Hijikata snapped, biting immediately. “I'm calling because of what happened last night.”</p><p><em>Last night?</em> Gintoki's eyes widened, his heart stuttering to a stop because… <em>what do you mean, last night?</em></p><p>“Oh?” Gintoki asked casually, confused. Aware. Dreading.</p><p>Hijikata sighed, the anger deflating from his tone. That was a bad sign. “Listen, we can do this over the phone, or you can come down and see me. Now I know <em>you</em> and how avoidant you are so let me explain properly before you shut me down. The Edo police got a call last night around one in the morning. A neighbor reported a big fight in someone's backyard. A man with white hair had a sword and took off after cutting the neighbors down.”</p><p><em>Oh shit.</em> Gintoki didn't answer, already seeing where this was going.</p><p>“Because there were Amanto and one of them almost bled out, we got called and...” Hijikata trailed off and he suddenly sounded tired. <em>Exhausted.</em> “So. You can come here and we can talk face to face, or we can try and do this over the phone.”</p><p>Gintoki's eyes slid to Kagura, her attention glued to the TV. She didn't seem mad at him today. Yet. “Am I a person of interest?”</p><p>“No.” Hijikata said, and suddenly he sounded more tired than he had before. “We were in the shed, Gintoki. You're not in trouble. The opposite, actually.”</p><p>Gintoki wanted to slam his head against his desk, wanted to lay back down and sleep forever. But he didn't do that because he couldn't. He didn't even sound as nervous as he felt. He knew this would be awful on the phone, and that eventually Hijikata would get frustrated and just come see Gintoki anyway.<br/>“I'll come by then. One o'clock?” Gintoki said. He was sweating already.</p><p>“One o'clock.” Hijikata agreed. “We'll meet for lunch.”</p><p>When Gintoki hung up, not even the excess of milk in the fridge could lift his spirits.</p><p> </p><p><em> <b>[July </b> </em> <em> <b>17</b> </em> <em> <b>] </b> </em> <em> <b>Fri</b></em><em><b>day, </b> </em> <strong><em> 13</em><em>:</em><em>18 </em></strong></p><p>Gintoki <em>might</em> have arrived early to their meeting spot due to nerves and his desperate need to dodge the old lady. He might have also been counting on the Demon Vice-Commander to be early too. Get in, get out, right? Get this done and over with so Gintoki could lock the experience into his little box of traumas and then throw away the key.</p><p>But Hijikata had been late, and when the man finally strolled up to Gintoki's table inside the small, cozy restaurant, with his hair disheveled and bags under his eyes, Gintoki knew he had been napping. Knew the idiot was running on next to nothing, trying to get everything done as fast as possible. Knew that his friend's obvious discomfort and stress was Gintoki's fault.</p><p>“I'd apologize, but it's your fault.” Hijikata said, slipping into a chair at the table and running a hand through his hair. “Did you already order?”</p><p>“No, I was waiting to see if you stood me up.” Gintoki laughed. He sipped at his water, hands curling around the cold glass just because he was nervous. “Not too hungry, honestly. Kinda figured we could just talk this out and be done with it.”</p><p>Hijikata laughed, picking up the menu. “If you don't order anything, I'll order for you.”</p><p>When Gintoki refused to pick something, Hijikata ended up ordering them both rice bowls from the waiter. And as much as Gintoki hated to admit it, the second the waiter walked away, he realized was starved. He hadn't eaten at all in the past four days, hadn't touched Shinpachi's breakfast that morning either. But when Hijikata turned his gaze to Gintoki, those blue eyes flickering over Gintoki's skin, Gintoki suddenly felt sick. He had bits and pieces of his memory, could remember <em>certain</em> things, instinctively <em>knew</em> others.</p><p><em>I guess technically I've eaten.</em> Suddenly, Gintoki's stomach lurched, and he must have paled because Hijikata's expression softened into concern. They hadn't even started talking yet, and already Gintoki wanted to melt into his chair.</p><p>“I'll get straight to it then.” Hijikata said. He hesitated as the waiter set down his glass of water, thanking her before turning back to Gintoki. “How do you know Hamamoto Ken?”</p><p>Gintoki's stomach lurched again. He suddenly felt dizzy. Was it too hot? “I painted his shed.” It was hilarious to think that <em>this</em> was how it all started. It started with that shed, that shed that Gintoki had painted with such care just to be used and abused under its roof.</p><p>Hijikata only hummed in understanding, his eyes narrowing. “And his son?”</p><p>“Painted his fence.” Gintoki laughed. He took another sip of water, hoping his nerves weren’t on display.</p><p>Hijikata analyzed him for a moment, eyes flickering over Gintoki's expression, the suspicion clear on his face. “Okay. Let me be straight forward. We found the tapes.”</p><p>Gintoki glanced up, chest sinking. “The-”</p><p>“Tapes of you. And the Hamamoto's. And the Amanto.” Hijikata said simply, like he was merely discussing the weather. “And in the house, we found tapes of hundreds of other victims. This has been going on for years. An entire generation, perhaps.”</p><p>Gintoki's shock was visible. “Wh-what?”</p><p>“If you hadn't broke out, you might be in space right now in a little dog kennel being sold off to the highest bidder.” Hijikata said, once again like they were discussing the weather. “And if you hadn't caused such a ruckus while getting out, it's possible the Hamamoto's might have just found a new victim, if not targeted you again.”</p><p>Gintoki swallowed, his eyes going back down to his cup. His eyebrows furrowed, but Hijikata answered his question before he even asked.</p><p>“They were all arrested. Everyone who ever laid hands-” Hijikata trailed off, before clearing his throat. “We're working with the Edo police to hunt down every last one of them responsible for these tapes. Seeing how we have video footage and facial recognition software nowadays, it won't take long. I proposed a deal to keep the victims anonymous in exchange for my team's help, so we don't have to drag every single one of them into this just so the media can spit out their names and their traumas. The Hamamoto's really did pick the wrong tree to bark up. You did good, Gintoki.”</p><p>Gintoki's hands started to tingle, his eyes widening at that last comment. <em>You did good.</em></p><p>The waiter suddenly stopped by, placing their meals before them. Hijikata thanked him.</p><p>When he turned back to Gintoki, he was surprised to see Gintoki had a hand over his mouth, his eyes locked on the rice. He was suddenly pale, no doubt was going to be sick. His hand was shaking, a white bandaged wrapped delicately around his wrist. He didn't look good, didn't look good at all.</p><p>“Hey...”</p><p>Gintoki took in a breath, his eyes closing. He leaned forward onto his elbows, both hands over his mouth.</p><p>“Is it the smell?” Hijikata asked. He reached over, pulling Gintoki's bowl away from him just in case he suddenly vomited all over the table. He watched Gintoki's face relax after a moment, the man sitting up again, one hand still close to his lips. He looked bad. His skin was pale, the bags under his eyes speaking for the long nights he'd had.</p><p>“Yeah, the smell. It'll go away.” Gintoki said, and to Hijikata, it sounded like Gintoki was taking the easy way out and not telling him the truth.</p><p>Hijikata let him.</p><p>Hijikata kept his mouth shut as Gintoki pulled his bowl closer again, and they started to eat, did his best not to encourage Gintoki to eat any more than what he picked at. The man was probably starving, but Gintoki was taking his time with small bites, his face still white. Hijikata was annoyed, but he wasn't annoyed with Gintoki himself. <em>Just don't mention it. Don't say anything unnecessary right now, he's already in a bad place.</em></p><p>Hijikata waited until he was halfway through his own meal, Gintoki just moving shit in his bowl now, to bring up the <em>thing.</em></p><p>“So.” Hijikata said, placing his chopsticks down. Gintoki had hardly touched his food, but Hijikata doubted he would eat much more. “With that said, about the situation-”</p><p>“You want me to make a statement.” Gintoki guessed. He didn't set his chopsticks down, but he did push at his rice instead of eating it.</p><p>“Sort of. Not really.” Hijikata said, his tone inclining suspiciously enough that Gintoki glanced up to him. “The Edo police want to talk to you about what happened. Go over some details, make sure we didn't miss anything or anyone. But mostly, we saw the tapes, Odd Jobs. Being titled <em>the Shiroyasha</em> is a huge accusation against you even if you were a victim, something that no one wants to overlook, less we have another Katsura organizing men in the streets. It's the Shinsengumi's job to take care of it and while we already know <em>things</em> there's a procedure...”</p><p>Gintoki didn't move, his eyes locked on Hijikata. Those red eyes were so dull and lifeless, dying more and more with each passing second, that Hijikata could choke on them.</p><p>Hijikata groaned. “Don't look so miserable. I made a deal with the Edo police <em>and</em> Kondou, but only if you agree to it.”</p><p>“And that deal is?” Gintoki asked carefully, those eyes still helplessly plain and distant.</p><p>“You need to talk to someone.” Hijikata said casually like they were discussing the weather. “You talk to someone of my choosing, and neither us, nor the police, question you. No matter what you say to her, no matter what you confess, she tells us what everyone wants to hear and that's it. This is done with.”</p><p>Gintoki didn't answer. After a second, he went back to pushing his rice around. “And that's really it?”</p><p>“Yes. That's really it. You talk once, and you go home and unhealthily forget about this like you do with everything else.” Hijikata said. He paused again, suddenly realizing something. “You didn't go to the hospital last night, did you?”</p><p>Gintoki laughed, finally just shoving his food away. “Of course not.”</p><p>“Of course not.” Hijikata parroted. He scoffed and got their food packed up. Gintoki didn't complain, but he didn't thank Hijikata for paying either.</p><p>Outside on the street, Hijikata lit a cigarette.</p><p>“Call me and let me know what you decide? Sooner, rather than later. And go get yourself checked out. Please?” Hijikata asked. He cut Gintoki a side glance, masking over his concern once again. “That means get back to me within the next forty-eight hours, or I'll have to decide for myself.”</p><p>Gintoki chuckled, waving over his shoulder. “Sure thing, tax-thief.”</p><p>“Gintoki.” Hijikata said, his tone warning. “Please. Go get yourself looked at.”</p><p>Gintoki moved away from him without saying anything, before suddenly pausing. Hijikata froze, eyes on Gintoki's back, wondering if the man had instantly made a decision. Hijikata readied himself to argue, assuming Gintoki would instantly decline.</p><p>“Can I ask for a favor?” Gintoki asked, without turning around.</p><p>Hijikata eyed him up, deciding Gintoki was asking something personal. For Gintoki, Hijikata supposed had all the time in the world. “Of course.”</p><p>Gintoki turned then, walked the distance back to Hijikata. He glanced oddly to the side, into the street, before looking back at Hijikata.</p><p>“Can I… <em>Ryota</em>. He said something.” Gintoki said, and Hijikata didn't like the way the man's name rolled so venomously off Gintoki's tongue. The man had been found unconscious in the shed. His yukata had been wide open, blood staining the front of his thighs and one of his knees had been busted. Hijikata hadn't needed to see the tapes to <em>know.</em></p><p>“Gintoki-”</p><p>“His father, Ken,” Gintoki said, glancing away, trying to organize what he was asking. “Were they really related? By blood?”</p><p>Hijikata scrunched his eyebrows together, head tilting. <em>Were they really related by blood?</em></p><p>“I can find out.” It was easy enough. Hijikata wasn't sure what Gintoki had been told, but if it was bad enough to make Gintoki concerned then…</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>Hijikata watched Gintoki walk away, Hijikata's expression slowly morphing back into the crippling concern he had felt the second he'd seen the footage. Hijikata had hardly slept, had been making phone calls, and micromanaging the case <em>knowing</em> that Gintoki had been called out as the Shiroyasha, <em>knowing</em> Gintoki would eventually admit to it if he was sat down and interrogated, <em>knowing</em> that if Hijikata didn't intervene early, Gintoki would have been arrested.</p><p>Gintoki didn't need this shit, and from what Hijikata had heard and seen, Gintoki hadn't deserved <em>any</em> of it.</p><p>Even if Gintoki believed he did.</p><p>Hijikata huffed a frustrated sigh as he turned around, heading straight back to where he had come from. He knew, deep down in the pits of his soul, that Gintoki would come skulking to him. Perhaps in the middle of the night, perhaps catching him casually in the middle of the day. Hijikata didn't need to mention the kids to motivate him into talking – Gintoki would go home and think of them himself. That man would die doing the right thing, and as selfish as it was, Hijikata was glad for that because that meant Gintoki might get out of this okay.</p><p><em>You're not so bad after all. Unlucky, yes, but not bad.</em> Hijikata returned to work with his leftovers and a second smoke finished, his brain clouded with anger. He had some information to dig up and some Amanto to take care of – they thought they were getting off the hook, thought they could sell Gintoki out in exchange for their freedom. It wasn't every day Hijikata worked <em>this</em> hard, slept this little, but for Gintoki?</p><p>For Gintoki, he would make everything right. And maybe he'd even be nice about it.</p><p> </p><p><em> <b>[July </b> </em> <em> <b>1</b></em><em><b>8</b></em><em><b>] </b> </em> <em> <b>Saturd</b></em><em><b>ay, </b> </em> <em> <b>11</b>:</em><em><b>44</b> </em></p><p>Just as expected, Gintoki came slinking into the Shinsengumi barracks to give Hijikata his answer. When Hijikata saw him in the door, he assumed Gintoki was there to decline. Or to annoy Hijikata over whatever trouble Gintoki had found himself in over the past half a day.</p><p>But surprisingly, Gintoki came and sat down across from Hijikata at his desk, leaning forward and smearing his elbow over the paper Hijikata was trying to finish. Hijikata paused, pen in the air, his eyes locked on Gintoki's wrists. He had a medical bracelet hanging around on of them, perhaps had come straight here from the hospital. <em>He got help after all.</em></p><p>“What is it?” Hijikata asked, glancing up tiredly. He had been working nonstop to try and bury this, and little did Gintoki know, this was about to blow up in his face before he could even stop it.</p><p>“I'm agreeing. To your deal.” Gintoki said. He smiled, but his eyes didn't reflect his humor.</p><p>“Good.” Hijikata said. “Because I scheduled you in for Monday.”</p><p>Gintoki looked shocked, sat up abruptly. “Already? What if I had declined?”</p><p>“Then obviously I would have canceled the appointment.” Hijikata said. He met Gintoki's gaze as he set down his pen. “I looked into Ryota and Ken for you. It's nothing too exciting, they've been model citizens until now.” <em>Though it's the good ones you always have to look out for, now isn't it?</em></p><p>Gintoki's attention perked, but he didn't prompt Hijikata.</p><p>“They're related by blood.” Hijikata said. He saw something then in Gintoki's eyes, some sort of scrutiny or confusion. “I did some digging, it looks like Ryota was born in a little village down south. Sometime during the war, that village was sacked and a lot of people were killed. I don't think they ever rebuilt, but that's not important. What's important is that Ken filed a missing persons report not even a year after, here in Edo. He made sure to update the police monthly. He was constantly in the station harassing them every six months it seems.”</p><p>Gintoki sighed and just like that, the confusion was gone.</p><p>“Seven years ago, Ryota found his way back home somehow. It's not reported how or why, but seven years ago, the case was closed because Ryota was found. Ken ordered a blood test to make sure Ryota was actually the son he was looking for, and the results were a match. I suppose they lived happily ever after, and business-wise, Ryota followed in his father's awful footsteps.” Hijikata said. He paused to analyze Gintoki's expression, eyes searching. “I don't know how this helps you or why this came up, but I hope it offers some sort of closure?”</p><p>Gintoki chuckled, shrugging evasively. “It just clears something up, is all.” Gintoki said, glancing away. “And Ken? How long has he been doing this?”</p><p>“Looks like he got into it after Ryota went missing.” Hijikata said. He picked his pen back up. “I can't discuss this with you, you know that. But the tapes go far back. We would have been children.”</p><p>Gintoki hummed but didn't say much about it. He didn't continue the conversation at all, but he didn't move to leave.</p><p>Hijikata turned back to his work, the silence lapsing comfortably. Yamazaki had been handing in shitty reports again, anpan this, anpan that, so <em>someone</em> had to go through and fix it. Anxious with Gintoki's case, Hijikata had delved right in to fix it.</p><p>It was sometime later that Gintoki chuckled nervously, the sound catching and keeping Hijikata's attention. Looking up again, Hijikata glanced to Gintoki's averted gaze, staring off to the wall.</p><p>“What is it?” Hijikata asked, setting his pen back down to give Gintoki his undivided attention. “Why are you still here?”<br/><br/>“I'll go.” Gintoki said and <em>damn it,</em> that hadn't been what Hijikata meant.</p><p>“Stay. Tell me.” Hijikata said, crossing his arms over his chest. He had almost desperately reached for Gintoki's arm, had somehow refrained.</p><p>Gintoki glanced back at him, his bottom lip suddenly disappearing between his teeth for a shy moment. “Can...”</p><p>“I'm here to help.” Hijikata reminded. “I'm very good at my job and putting two and two together, so spit something out for me to work with.”</p><p>Gintoki laughed, eyes sliding away again in avoidance. “You sure the mayo hasn't clouded your judgment?”</p><p>“You sure the sugar hasn't been rotting your brain?” Hijikata asked.</p><p>“Can you walk me through it?” Gintoki asked. He chuckled again, nervous, glancing back to Hijikata. “The process. Monday? I'd like to know what to expect? I'm not sure what she'll ask and I don't know how to explain things, as you probably know, because you're only half stupid but even half stupid people can tell I'm also slightly-more-than-half stupid because it takes one to know one.”</p><p><em>He's anxious and rambling.</em> Hijikata blinked in surprise, his mouth opening just to stutter. Hijikata cleared his throat before nodding. “Of course.”</p><p>“Only if you have time.” Gintoki said, and it sounded like he was going to leave. Sounded like he wanted to be anywhere else at that moment, saying anything else. <em>He's been thinking about this, hasn't he? He's taking his chance to get this off his chest. His side of the story before someone else can force it out of him.</em></p><p>“You want me to listen?” Hijikata asked, more out of surprise that Gintoki was offering to talk to him, before he realized that an open-ended question with Gintoki probably wasn't the best approach. “I'll listen to you. I can walk you through it.”</p><p>“Later?” Gintoki asked, and it sounded like he needed time to wrap his head around the concept.</p><p>“Later.” Hijikata agreed. “I'll come by when I'm done?”</p><p>“Sure.” Gintoki said, and he stood up. Hijikata didn't follow him to the door, allowed the man the extra space to get his head together. “I'll see you later, Tax-Thief.”</p><p>“Sugar-Freak.” Hijikata shot back.</p><p>“Mayo-turd.”</p><p>“Lazy-ass.”</p><p>Without Gintoki's presence, the room felt empty. But with the promise of a more open friendship, with the promise of Gintoki trying to dig up his own skeletons, cracking through that hard shell Gintoki always hid beneath, Hijikata couldn't help but feel excited.</p><p>Yes. He would finish his paperwork. He would listen to what Gintoki had to say about what had happened.</p><p>And then there would retribution to be paid because everything that Hijikata heard would only fuel him to fight for Gintoki's freedom all the more.</p><p>And just like that, the story would be over.</p><p>Hopefully.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Not sure if I like this end. Watch out for a chapter three, I guess.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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